FRANK 
US 


THE  ]  [BRARY 


THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CALIFORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


•'  All  eyes  were  now  fixed  on  Frank."    See  page  118. 


Frank  Merriwell's  Chums 


BY 


BURT  L.  STANDISH,  ose^ 

AUTHOR  OF 

"Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days,"  "  Frank  Merriwell's  Foes,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
DAVID    McKAY,    PUBLISHER, 

604-8  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE. 


Copyright,  1896  and  1902 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 

Frank  Merriwell's  Chuias 


CONTENTS. 


I — Frank  Asks  Questions     ....      9 

II — A  Ghastly  Subject       .        .        .        .         15 

III — An  Irresistible  Temptation       .        .        .22 

IV— A  Game  of  Bluff         ....         28 

V — Frank's  Revelation  .        .        .        -33 

VI— The  Plot 39 

VII — Spreading  the  Snare        .        .        .        .46 
VIII — The  Haunted  Room    .        .        .        .         51 

IX— In  the  Meshes 58 

X — Downward 62 

XI — Trusting  and  True 68 

XII — The  Snare  is  Broken    ....         73 
XIII — The  "Centipede"  Jcke     .        .        .        -79 

XIV— Lively  Times 85 

XV— Warned 91 

XVI— Paul  Rains 97 

XVII— The  Bully's  Match  .         .         .        .         .102 
XVIII — Rains'  Challenge          ....        107 

XIX — Jumping 113 

XX — Bascomb's  Mistake      .        .        .        .        119 

XXI — The  Rival  Professors       .        .        .        .126 

XXII— A  Lively  Call      .....        13' 


2035357 


ij  CONTENTS. 

XXIII — Skating  for  Honors          .        .        .        .13? 

XXIV— Skating  for  Life  ....       142 

XXV — The  Sinister  Stranger      .        .        .        .147 

XXVI— The  Mystery  of  the  Ring     .        .        .        154 

XXVII— Attacked  on  the  Road     .        .        .        .159 

XXVIII— The  Marks  on  the  Black  Stone     .        .        164 

XXIX— Bart  Makes  a  Pledge        .         .        .         .170 

XXX — Frank  and  the  Professor      .        .        .        175 

XXXI— Snell  Talks 180 

XXXII— Snell's  Hatred      ...        .        .        .        186 

XXXIII— Playing  the  Shadow        .        .        .        .191 

XXXIV — The  Ring  Disappears  .        .        .        .       197 

XXXV — More  Danger 203 

XXXVI— The  Secret  of  the  Ring        .        .        .207 

XXXVII— "Baby" 213 

XXXVIII— Sport  With  a  Plebe     ....       218 

XXXIX— An  Open  Insult 228 

XL — For  the  Under  Dog      ....       234 

XLI — Birds  of  a  Feather 239 

XLII — The  Challenge 244 

XLIII— Doughty  Duelist 249 

XLIV— A  Comedy  Duel          ....       254 

XLV— Another  Kind  of  a  Fight          .        .        .259 
XLVI— Result  of  the  Contest  ...       265 

XLVII— Alive!     .        .        .        .        .        .        .272 

XLVIII — Baby's  Heroism — Conclusion       .        .       277 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S  CHUMS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

FRANK  ASKS  QUESTIONS. 

September  was  again  at  hand,  and  the  cadets  at  Far- 
dale  Military  Academy  had  broken  camp,  and  returned 
to  barracks. 

For  all  of  past  differences,  which  had  been  finally 
settled  between  them — for  all  that  they  had  once  been 
bitter  enemies,  and  were  by  disposition  and  development 
as  radically  opposite  as  the  positive  and  negative  points 
of  a  magnetic  needle,  Frank  Merriwell  and  Bartley 
Hodge  had  chosen  to  room  together. 

There  was  to  be  no  more  "herding"  in  fours,  and  so 
Barney  Mulloy,  the  Irish  lad,  and  Hans  Dunnerwust, 
the  Dutch  boy,  were  assigned  to  another  room. 

Like  Hodge,  Barney  and  Hans  were  Frank  Merriwell's 
stanch  friends  and  admirers.  They  were  ready  to  do 
anything  for  the  jolly  young  plebe,  who  had  become  pop 
ular  at  the  academy,  and  thus  won  both  friends  and  foes 
among  the  older  cadets. 

Barney  was  shrewd  and  ready-witted,  while  Hans,  for 
all  of  his  speech  and  his  blundering  ways,  was  much 
brighter  than  he  appeared. 

Still  being  plebes,  Merriwell  and  Hodge  had  been  as 
signed  to  the  "cock-loft"  of  the  third  division,  which 


10  Frank  Asks  Questions. 

meant  the  top  floor  on  the  north  side  of  the  barracks — 
the  sunless  side. 

.     The  other  sides,  and  the  lower  floors,  with  the  excep 
tion  of  the  first,  were  reserved  for  the  older  cadets. 

Their  room  contained  two  alcoves,  or  bedrooms,  at  the 
end  opposite  the  door.  These  alcoves  were  made  by  a 
simple  partition  that  separated  one  side  from  the  other, 
but  left  the  bedrooms  open  to  the  rest  of  the  room. 

Against  the  walls -in  the  alcoves  stood  two  light  iron 
bedsteads,  with  a  single  mattress  on  each,  carefully  folded 
back  during  the  day,  and  made  up  only  after  tattoo. 

The  rest  of  the  bedding  was  carefully  and  sys 
tematically  piled  on  the  mattresses. 

In  the  partitions  were  rows  of  iron  hooks,  on  which 
their  clothing  must  be  placed  in  regular  order,  overcoats 
to  the  front,  then  rubber  coats,  uniform  coats,  jackets, 
trousers,  and  underclothing  following,  with  a  bag  for 
soiled  clothing  at  the  rear. 

On  the  broad  wooden  bar  that  ran  across  the  front  of 
these  alcoves,  near  the  ceiling,  the  names  of  the  cadets 
who  occupied  the  bedrooms  were  posted,  so  inspecting 
officers  could  tell  at  a  glance  who  occupied  the  beds. 

At  the  front  of  the  partition  the  washstand  was  placed, 
with  the  bucket  of  water,  dipper,  and  washbowl,  which 
must  always  be  kept  in  a  certain  order,  with  the  wash 
bowl  inverted,  and  the  soapdish  on  top  of  it. 

Rifles  were  kept  in  the  rack,  barrels  to  the  front,  with 
dress  hats  on  the  shelf,  and  a  mirror  in  the  middle  of  the 
mantelshelf.  Accoutrements  and  forage  saps  were  hung 
on  certain  hooks,  and  clothing  and  other  things  allowable 
and  necessary  were  always  to  be  kept  in  an  unvarying 
order  on  a  set  of  open-faced  shelves. 

The  broom  and  slop-bucket  were  to  be  deposited  behind 


Frank  Asks  Questions.  n 

the  door,  the  chairs  against  the  table,  when  not  in  use, 
and  the  table  against  the  wall  opposite  the  fireplace. 

At  the  foot  of  each  bed  the  shoes  were  placed  in  a  line, 
neatly  dusted,  with  toes  to  the  front. 

It  was  required  that  the  room  should  be  constantly 
kept  in  perfect  order,  and  Merriwell  and  Hodge  were 
called  on  to  take  turns,  week  and  week  about,  at  being 
orderly,  and  the  name  of  the  one  responsible  for  the  ap 
pearance  of  the  room  was  placed  on  the  orderly  board, 
hung  to  the  front  of  the  alcove  partition. 

Back  of  the  door  was  another  board,  on  which  each  was 
required  to  post  his  hours  of  recitation,  and  to  account  for 
his  absence  from  the  room  at  any  inspection. 

In  fact,  a  rigid  effort  was  made  at  Fardale  to  imitate  in 
every  possible  way  the  regulations  and  requirements  en 
forced  at  West  Point,  and  it  was  the  boast  that  the 
school  was,  in  almost  every  particular,  identical  with  our 
great  Military  Academy. 

Of  coursej  it  was  impossible  to  enforce  the  rules  as 
rigidly  as  they  are  at  the  Point,  for  the  cadets  at  Fardale 
were,  as  a  class,  far  younger,  and  the  disgrace  of  expul 
sion  or  failure  in  any  way  was  not  to  be  compared  with 
that  attending  unfortunates  at  the  school  where  youths 
are  graduated  into  actual  service  as  officers  of  the  United 
States  army. 

Many  of  the  cadets  at  Fardale  had  been  sent  there  by 
parents  who  could  riot  handle  them  at  home,  and  who 
had  hoped  the  discipine  they  would  receive  at  a  military 
school  would  serve  to  tone  down  their  wildness.  Thus 
it  will  be  seen  that  many  harum-scarum  fellows  got  into 
the  school,  and  that  they  could  not  readily  be  compelled 
to  conform  to  the  rules  and  requirements. 

For  all  that  Frank  Merriwell  was  a  jolly,  fun-loving 
fellow,  he  was  naturally  orderly  and  neat,  so  that  it 


12  Frank  Asks  Questions. 

seemed  very  little  effort  for  him  to  do  his  part  in  keeping 
the  room  in  order. 

On  the  other  hand,  Bartley  Hodge  was  naturally  care 
less,  and  he  had  a  persistent  way  of  displacing  things  that 
annoyed  Frank2  although  the  latter  said  little  about  it  at 
first. 

Whenever  the  inspecting  officer  found  anything  wrong 
about  the  room,  he  simply  glanced  at  the  orderly  board, 
and  down  went  the  demerit  against  the  lad  whose  name 
was  posted  there.  It  made  no  difference  who  had  left  a 
chair  out  of  place,  hung  a  coat  where  it  should  not  be,  or 
failed  to  invert  the  washbowl,  the  room  orderly  had  to 
assume  the  responsibility. 

Now,  it  was  the  last  thing  in  the  world  that  Hodge 
could  wish  to  injure  Merriwell,  but  three  times  in  Frank's 
first  week  as  room  orderly  he  was  reported  for  things  he 
could  not  help,  and  for  which  Bart  was  entirely  re 
sponsible. 

'Merriwell  had  risen  to  the  first  section  in  recitation  at 
the  very  start,  while  Hodge,  who  had  been  placed  in  the 
third,  was  soon  relegated  to  the  second. 

Frank  was  trying  to  curb  his  almost  unbounded  incli 
nation  for  mischief,  and  he  was  studying  assiduously. 

On  the  other  hand,  while  Hodge  did  not  seem  at  all 
mischievous  by  nature,  he  detested  study,  and  he  was 
inclined  to  spend  the  time  when  he  should  have  been 
"digging,"  in  reading  some  story,  or  in  idly  yawning  and 
wishing  the  time  away. 

One  day,  after  having  taken  his  third  demerit  on  his 
roommate's  account,  the  inspector  having  detected  tobacco 
smoke  in  the  room,  Frank  said : 

"Why  don't  you  swear  off  on  cigarettes,  Bart  ?  They 
don't  do  a  fellow  any  good,  and  they  are  pretty  sure  to 
get  him  into  trouble  here  at  the  academy." 


Frank  Asks  Questions.  13 

Hodge  was  in  anything  but  a  pleasant  frame  of  mind, 
and  he  instantly  retorted : 

"I  know  what  you  mean.  You  are  orderly,  and  I 
ought  to  have  spoken  up  and  told  the  inspector  I  had  been 
smoking.  I  didn't  know  what  it  was  he  put  down,  but 
I'll  go  and  confess  my  crime  now." 

He  sprang  up  petulantly,  but  Frank's  hand  dropped  on 
his  arm,  and  Merriwell  quietly  said: 

"Don't  go  off  angry,  old  man.  You  know  I  don't  want 
you  to  do  anything  of  the  sort.  I  will  take  my  medicine 
when  I  am  orderly,  and  I  know  you  will  do  the  same  when 
it  comes  your  turn." 

"Well,  I  didn't  know "  began  Bart,  in  a  somewhat 

sulky  manner. 

"You  ought  to  know  pretty  well  by  this  time.  I  am 
not  much  given  to  kicking  or  growling,  but  I  do  want  to 
have  a  sober  talk  with  you,  and  I  hope  you  will  not  fire 
up  at  anything  I  say." 

"All  right;  go  ahead,"  said  Hodge,  throwing  himself 
wearily  into  a  chair,  and  thrusting  his  hands  deep  into 
his  pockets.  "I'll  listen  to  your  sermon." 

"It  isn't  to  be  a  sermon.  You  should  know  I  am  not 
the  kind  of  a  fellow  to  preach." 

"That's  so.     Don't  mind  me.     Drive  ahead." 

"First,  I  want  to  ask  how  it  is  you  happened  to  let 
yourself  be  put  back  in  recitations?" 

"Oh,  Old  Gunn  just  put  me  back-rthat's  all." 

"But  you  are  fully  as  good  a  scholar  as  I  am,  and  you 
could  have  gone  ahead  into  the  first  section  if  you  had 
braced  up." 

"Perhaps  so." 

"I  know  it.     You  do  not  study." 

"What's  the  use  of  boning  all  the  time !  I  wasn't  cut 
out  for  it." 


14  Frank  Asks  Questions. 

"That's  the  only  way  to  get  ahead  here." 

"I  don't  care  much  about  getting  ahead.  All  I  want 
is  to  pull  through  and  graduate.  Then  I  can  go  to  col 
lege  if  I  wish.  These  fellows  who  get  the  idea  that  they 
must  dig,  dig,  dig  here,  just  as  they  say  they  do  at  West 
Point,  give  me  a  pain.  What  is  there  to  dig  for?  We're 
not  working  for  commissions  in  the  army." 

"From  your  point  of  view,  you  put  up  a  very  good  ar 
gument,"  admitted  Frank ;  "but  there's  another  side.  It 
surely  must  be  some  satisfaction  to  graduate  well  up  in 
your  class,  if  not  at  the  head.  And  then,  the  more  a  fel 
low  learns  here,  the  easier  he  will  find  the  work  after  en 
tering  college." 

"Work  ?  Pshaw !  There  are  not  many  fellows  in  col 
leges  who  are  compelled  to  bone.  I  hate  work!  I 
thought  you  were  the  kind  of  a  fellow  who  liked  a  little 
fun?" 

"Well,  you  know  I  am.  Haven't  I  always  been  in  for 
sport?" 

"But  you're  getting  to  be  a  regular  plodder.  You 
don't  do  a  thing  lately  to  keep  your  blood  circulating." 

"I  am  afraid  you  do  too  much  that  is  contrary  to  rules, 
old  man.  For  instance,  where  is  it  that  you  go  so  often 
nights,  and  stay  till  near  morning  ?" 

"I  go  out  for  a  little  sport,"  replied  Bart,  with  a  grim 
smile. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A    GHASTLY    SUBJECT. 

"But  you  know  the  consequences  if  you  are  caught," 
said  Frank,  warningly. 

"Of  course  I  do,"  nodded  Bart,  "but  you  must  ac 
knowledge  there  is  not  much  danger  that  I  shall  be 
caught,  as  long  as  I  make  up  a  good  dummy  to  leave  in 
my  place  on  the  bed." 

"Still,  you  may  be." 

"That's  right,  and  there's  where  part  of  the  sport  comes 
in,  as  you  ought  to  know,  for  you  are  quite  a  fellow  to 
take  chances  yourself,  Merriwell." 

"That's  right,"  admitted  Frank.  "It's  in  my  blood,  and 
I  can't  help  it.  Anything  with  a  spice  of  risk  or  danger 
attracts  and  fascinates  me." 

"You  are  not  in  the  habit  of  hesitating  or  being  easily 
scared  when  there  is  some  sport  in  the  wind." 

Frank  smiled. 

"I  never  have  been,"  he  admitted.  "I  have  taken  alto 
gether  too  many  risks  in  the  past.  A  fellow  has  to  sober 
down  and  straighten  up  if  he  means  to  do  anything  or  be 
anything." 

Bart  made  an  impatient  gesture. 

"Any  one  would  think  you  were  a  reformed  toper,  to 
hear  you  talk,"  he  said,  with  a  trace  of  a  sneer. 

"Not  if  they  knew  me,"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "What 
ever  my  faults  may  be,  I  never  had  any  inclination  to 


1 6  A  Ghastly  Subject. 

drink.  I  have  had  fellows  tell  me  they  did  so  for  fun,  but 
I  have  never  been  able  to  see  the  fun  in  it,  and  it  surely 
is  injurious  and  dangerous.  I  don't  believe  many  young 
fellows  like  the  taste  of  liquor.  I  don't.  They  drink 
it  'for  fun,'  and  they  keep  on  drinking  it  'for  fun'  till  a 
habit  is  formed,  and  they  become  drunkards.  Now,  I  can 
find  plenty  of  fun  of  a  sort  that  will  not  harm  me,  or 
bring " 

"I  thought  you  weren't  going  to  preach,"  interrupted 
the  dark-haired  boy,  impatiently.  "Let  me  give  you  a 
text:  'Thou  shalt  not  put  an  enemy  into  thy  mouth  to 
steal  away  thy  brain/  or  something  of  the  sort.  Now,  go 
ahead  and  spout,  old  man." 

Frank's  face  grew  red,  and  he  bit  his  lip.  He  saw 
that  Hodge  was  in  a  most  unpleasant  humor,  and  so  he 
forced  a  laugh. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you  to-day,  Bart?"  he  asked. 
"I  haven't  seen  you  this  way  for  a  long  time." 

"Oh,  there's  nothing  the  matter." 

"It  must  be  staying  up  nights.     Where  do  you  go  ?" 

"If  you  want  to  come  along,  and  have  some  fun,  I  will 
show  you  to-night." 

Frank  hesitated.  It  was  a  great  temptation,  and  he 
felt  a  longing  to  go. 

"Well,"  he  said,  finally,  "I  have  not  broken  away  in 
quite  a  while,  and  I  believe  I'll  take  a  whirl  with  you  to 
night." 

"All  right,"  nodded  Bart.  "I'll  show  you  some  fel- 
lows  with  sporting  blood  in  their  veins." 

"But  I  want  you  to  understand  I  do  not  propose  to  fol 
low  it  up  night  after  night,"  Frank  hastened  to  say.  "A 
fellow  can't  do  it  and  stand  the  work  that's  cut  out  for 
him  here." 

"Bother  the  work!" 


A  Ghastly  Subject.  17 

"I'll  have  to  work  to  keep  up  with  the  procession.  If 
you  can  get  along  without  work,  you  are  dead  lucky." 

"Oh,  I'll  scrub  along  some  way,  don't  you  worry ;  and 
I  will  come  out  as  well  as  you  do  in  the  end." 

That  night,  some  time  after  taps,  two  boys  arose  and 
proceeded  to  carefully  prepare  dummies  in  their  beds,  ar 
ranging  the  figures  so  they  looked  very  much  like  sleep 
ing  cadets,  if  they  were  not  examined  too  closely.  Bart 
was  rather  skillful  at  this,  and  he  assisted  Frank  in  per 
fecting  the  figure  in  Merriwell's  bed. 

"There,"  he  finally  whispered,  with  satisfaction,  "that 
would  fool  Lieutenant  Gordan  himself." 

They  donned  trousers  and  coalts,  and  prepared  to  leave 
the  room  in  their  stocking  feet. 

Bart  opened  the  door  and  peered  cautiously  out  into  the 
hall. 

"Coast  is  clear,"  he  whispered  over  his  shoulder. 

In  another  moment  they  were  outside  the  room. 
Along  the  corridor  they  skurried  like  cats,  their  feet  mak 
ing  no  noise  on  the  floor. 

Frank  was  still  entirely  unaware  of  their  destination, 
but,  as  they  had  not  taken  their  shoes,  he  knew  they  were 
not  to  leave  the  building. 

Frank  cared  little  where  they  went,  but  he  realized 
Hodge  was  leading  the  way  to  a  remote  part  of  the  build 
ing,  where  the  rooms  were  not  entirely  taken,  as  the  acad 
emy  was  not  full  of  students. 

All  at  once,  Bart  sent  a  peculiar  hiss  down  the  corridor, 
and  it  was  answered  by  a  similar  sound. 

A  moment  later  they  scudded  past  a  fellow  who  was 
hugging  in  a  shadow  where  the  lights  did  not  reach. 

"Who's  that?"  whispered  Frank. 

"That's  the  sentinel,"  replied  Bart. 


1 8  A  Ghastly  Subject. 

Then  they  came  to  the  door  of  a  certain  room,  on  which 
Hodge  knocked  in  a  peculiar  manner. 

A  faint  sound  of  unbarring  came  from  behind  the  door, 
which  quickly  opened,  and  they  dodged  into  the  room. 

As  yet  there  was  no  light  in  the  room,  and,  still  filled 
with  wonder,  Frank  asked: 

"Was  that  the  regular  sentinel  out  there,  Bart  ?" 

"That  was  our  sentinel,"  was  the  reply. 

"But  where  are  the  regular  sentinels?  I  did  not  see 
one  of  them." 

Faint  chuckles  came  from  several  parts  of  the  room, 
and  Hodge  replied : 

"At  a  certain  hour  each  night  the  duties  of  the  regular 
sentinels  take  them  away  long  enough  for  me  to  get  out 
of  my  room  and  in  here.  See?" 

"They  must  be  in  the  trick?" 

"The  most  of  them  are.  When  it  happens  that  one  is 
not,  we  have  to  look  out  for  him,  and  dodge  him.  To 
night  those  on  duty  on  this  floor  were  all  fixed." 

Then  somebody  cautiously  struck  a  match,  by  the  flare 
of  which  Frank  saw  several  fellows  were  gathered  in  the 
room. 

A  lamp  was  lighted,  and  Merriwell  looked  around. 
Besides  Bart,  he  saw  Harvey  Dare,  George  Harris,  Wat 
Snell  and  Sam  Winslow. 

"Hello,  Merriwell,  old  man,"  some  greeted,  cordially, 
but  cautiously.  "Glad  to  see  Hodge  has  brought  you 
along." 

Frank  was  instantly  seized  by  an  unpleasant  sensation 
—a  foreboding,  or  a  warning.  Harris  and  Snell  were  not 
friends  of  his;  in  fact,  in  the  past,  they  had  been  dis 
tinctly  unfriendly.  Dare  he  knew  little  about,  as  they 
had  never  had  much  to  do  with  each  other.  Sam  Wins- 


A  Ghastly  Subject.  19 

low  was  a  plebe,  having  entered  the  academy  at  the  same 
time  with  Merriwell,  but  Frank  had  never  been  able  to 
determine  whether  he  was  "no  good"  or  a  pretty  decent 
sort  of  fellow. 

Had  Frank  been  governed  by  his  first  impression,  he 
would  have  found  an  excuse  to  bid  that  company  good 
night  immediately,  but  he  did  not  like  to  do  anything  like 
that,  for  he  knew  it  would  cause  them  to  designate  him 
as  a  cad,  and  he  would  be  despised  for  doing  so. 

He  had  gone  too  far  to  back  out  immediately,  so  he  re 
solved  to  stay  a  while,  and  then  get  out  as  best  he  could. 

At  the  window  of  the  room  blankets  had  been  sus 
pended,  so  no  ray  of  light  could  shine  out  into  the  night 
to  betray  the  little  party. 

At  a  glance,  Frank  saw  the  room  was  not  occupied  by 
students,  for  it  contained  nothing  but  the  bare  furniture, 
besides  a  box  on  the  table,  and  the  assembled  lads. 

Bart  saw  Frank  looking  around,  and  divined  his 
thoughts. 

"I  suppose  you  are  wondering  where  you  are?  Well, 
this  is  the  room  in  which  Cadet  Bolt  committed  suicide. 
It  has  been  closed  ever  since,  as  no  fellow  will  occupy 
it.  It  is  said  to  be  haunted." 

This  appealed  to  Frank's  love  of  the  sensational.  Be 
sides  that.,  he  fancied  he  saw  an  opportunity  for  some 
sport  that  was  not  down  in  the  programme,  and  he  smiled 
a  bit. 

"Of  course  it  isn't  haunted,"  he  said.  "I  don't  believe 
there  is  a  fellow  here  who  believes  in  ghosts?" 

"I  don't." 

"Nor  I." 

"Nor  I." 

"Such  stuff  is  rot !" 


20  A  Ghastly  Subject. 

"I  don't  believe  in  anything  I  can't  see." 

Thus  the  assembled  lads  expressed  themselves,  and 
Frank  smiled  again. 

"While  I  do  not  believe  this  room  is  haunted,"  he  said, 
"I  once  had  a  rather  blood-curdling  experience  with  some 
thing  like  a  disembodied  spirit — an  adventure  that  came 
near  turning  my  hair  snowy  white  from  fright  and  horror. 
I  will  tell  you  about  it.  The  original  of  my  ghost  hap 
pened  to  be  a  fellow  who  committed  suicide,  and  he " 

"Say,  hold  on !"  gurgled  Wat  Snell,  who  had  declared 
that  believing  in  ghosts  was  "all  rot."  "What  are  we 
here  for — to  listen  to  ghost  stories  or  to  have  a  little 
picnic  ?" 

"Oh,  drop  your  ghost  yarn,"  said  George  Harris,  who 
had  asserted  that  he  did  not  believe  in  anything  he  could 
not  see.  "You  may  tell  it  to  us  some  other  time." 

"But  this  is  a  really  interesting  story,"  insisted  Frank. 
"You  see,  the  fellow  shot  himself  three  times,  and  when 
he  did  not  die  quickly  enough  to  be  suited,  he  cut  his 
throat  from  ear  to  ear,  and  his  specter  was  a  most  ghastly- 
appearing  object,  bleeding  from  the  bullet  wounds  and 
having  a  gash  across  its  throat  from " 

"Say,  will  you  let  up !"  gasped  Harris.  "If  you  don't, 
I'll  get  out !" 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  to  break  up  this  jolly  gathering," 
said  Frank,  his  eyes  twinkling,  "but  I  was  just  going  to 
tell  how  the  ghost " 

"Cheese  it!"  interrupted  Sam  Winslow.  "Talk  about 
something  besides  ghosts,  will  you  ?  You  are  not  given 
to  dwelling  on  such  unpleasant  subjects,  Merriwell." 

"But  I  thought  you  fellows  didn't  take  any  stock  in 
ghosts?" 


A  Ghastly  Subject.  21 

"We  don't,"  grinned  Harvey  Dare;  "and  that's  just 
why  we  don't  want  to  hear  about  'em." 

"We've  got  something  else  to  do  besides  listen  to 
yarns,"  said  Harris.  "Let's  proceed  to  gorge."  And  he 
began  opening  the  box  that  sat  on  the  table. 


CHAPTER  III. 

AN  IRRESISTIBLE  TEMPTATION. 

"Harris  is  lucky,"  said  Sam  Winslow.  "His  folks  send 
him  a  box  every  now  and  then,  and  he  gets  it  through  old 
Carter,  at  the  village." 

"I  have  hard  enough  time  smuggling  it  in,"  said  Har 
ris,  "and  I  share  when  I  get  it  here." 

"For  which  we  may  well  call  ourselves  lucky  dogs," 
smiled  Harvey  Dare.  "A  fellow  gets  awfully  weary  of 
the  regular  rations  they  have  here." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Frank.  "I  often  long  for  the 
flesh  pots  of  Egypt,  or  almost  anything  in  the  way  of  a 
change  of  fare." 

"Well,  here's  where  you  get  it — if  you'll  agree  not  to 
spring  any  more  ghost  yarns  on  us,"  said  Harris.  "Just 
look  over  this  collection  of  palate  ticklers,  fellows." 

"Fruit  cake !"  gasped  Sam,  delightedly.  "Oh,  how  my 
stomach  yearns  for  it !" 

"Cream  pie!"  ejaculated  Wat  Snell.  "Yum!  yum! 
Somebody  please  hold  me !" 

"Tarts!"  panted  Harvey  Dare.  "Oh,  I  won't  do  a 
thing  to  them !" 

"Look  at  the  cookies  and  assorted  good  stuff!"  mur 
mured  Bart,  ecstatically.  "I  shall  be  ready  to  perish 
without  a  tremor  after  this !" 

"Permit  me  to  do  the  honors,"  said  Harris,  grandly. 
"Just  nominate  your  poison,  and  I  will  deal  it  out." 


An  Irresistible  Temptation.  23 

So  each  one  called  for  what  he  desired,  and  Harris 
supplied  them,  using  a  pocket-knife  with  which  to  cut  the 
cake  and  pie. 

"Aren't  you  glad  you  came,  Merriwell?"  asked  Sam, 
with  his  mouth  full  of  fruit  cake. 

"Sure,"  smiled  Frank,  as  he  helped  himself.  "I  shall 
not  regret  it,  if  it  gives  me  indigestion." 

Frank  believed  Wat  Snell  was  a  sneak,  but  he  did  not 
fancy  it  would  be  at  all  necessary  to  accept  the  fellow  as  a 
friend  just  because  they  had  met  under  such  circum 
stances.  He  meant  to  use  Snell  well,  and  let  it  go  at  that. 

The  boys  thoroughly  enjoyed  their  clandestine  feast. 
It  was  a  luxury  a  hundred  times  dearer  than  a  feast  from 
similar  things  could  have  been  had  there  been  no  secrecy 
about  it  and  had  it  been  perfectly  allowable. 

They  gorged  themselves  till  they  could  eat  no  more,  and 
the  contents  of  the  box  proved  none  too  plentiful  for  their 
ravenous  appetites.  When  they  had  finished,  nothing  but 
a  few  crumbs  were  left. 

"There,"  sighed  Harvey  Dare,  "I  haven't  felt  so  full 
as  this  before  since  the  last  time  Harris  had  a  box." 

"Nor  I,"  said  Wat  Snell,  lighting  a  cigarette.  "Have 
one,  Merriwell?" 

Frank  declined  to  smoke,  but  his  example  was  not  fol 
lowed  by  any  of  the  other  lads.  Each  one  took  a 
cigarette  and  "fired  up." 

"You  ought  to  smoke,  Merriwell,"  said  Dare.  "There's 
lots  of  pleasure  in  it." 

"Perhaps  so,"  admitted  Frank ;  "but  I  don't  care  for  it, 
and,  as  it  is  against  the  rules,  it  keeps  me  out  of  trouble 
by  not  smoking." 

"It's  against  the  rules  to  indulge  in  this  kind  of  a  feast, 
old  man.  You  can't  be  too  much  of  a  stickler  for  rules." 


24  An  Irresistible  Temptation. 

"It  doesn't  do  to  be  too  goody-good,"  put  in  Snell,  in 
sinuatingly.  "Such  rubbish  doesn't  go  with  the  fellows." 

"I  don't  think  any  one  can  accuse  me  of  playing  the 
goody-good,"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "I  like  fun  as  well  as 
any  one,  as  you  all  know,  but  I  do  not  care  for  cigarettes, ; 
and  so  I  do  not  smoke  them.  I  don't  wish  to  take  any; 
credit  to  myself,  so  I  make  no  claim  to  resisting  a  tempta 
tion,  for  they  are  no  temptation  to  me." 

"Lots  of  fellows  smoke  who  do  not  like  cigarettes,"  as 
sured  Sam  Winslow. 

"Well,  I  can't  understand  why  they  do  so,"  declared 
Merriwell. 

"They  do  it  for  fun." 

"I  fail  to  see  where  the  fun  comes  in.  There  are 
enough  improper  things  that  I  would  like  to  do  for  me 
not  to  care  about  those  things  that  are  repugnant  to  me. 
Some  time  ago  I  made  up  my  mind  never  to  do  a  thing 
I  did  not  want  to  do,  or  did  not  give  me  pleasure,  unless 
it  was  absolutely  necessary,  or  was  required  as  a  courtesy 
to  somebody  else.  I  am  trying  to  stick  by  that  rule." 

"Oh,  don't  talk  about  rules !"  cut  in  Dare.  "It  makes 
me  weary !  We  have  enough  of  rules  here  at  this  acad 
emy,  without  making  any  for  ourselves." 

"Come,  fellows,"  broke  in  Hodge;  "let's  get  down  to 
business." 

"Business?"  said  Frank,  questioningly.  "I  thought 
this  was  a  case  of  sport?" 

"It  is.     You  mustn't  be  so  quick  to  catch  up  a  word." 

The  table  was  cleared,  and  the  boys  gathered  round  it, 
Hodge  producing  a  pack  of  cards,  the  seal  of  which  had 
not  been  broken. 

"You'll  notice  that  those  papers  are  all  right,"  he  said, 


An  Irresistible  Temptation.  25 

significantly.     "Nobody's  had  a  chance  to  tamper  with 
them." 

"What  do  you  play?"  asked  Frank,  to  whose  face  a 
strange  look  had  come  on  sight  of  the  cards. 

"Oh,  we  play  most  anything — euchre,  seven  up, 
poker " 

"Poker?" 

"Yes;  just  a  light  game — penny  ante — to  make  it  in 
teresting.  You  know  there's  no  interest  in  poker  unless 
there's  some  risk." 

The  strange  look  grew  on  Frank  Merriwell's  face.  He 
seemed  in  doubt,  as  if  hesitating  over  something. 

"I — I  think  I  will  go  back  to  the  room,"  he  said. 

"What's  that?"  exclaimed  several,  in  amazement. 
"Why,  you  have  just  got  here." 

"But  I  am  not  feeling — exactly  right.  What  I  have 
eaten  may  give  me  a  headache,  and  I  have  a  hard  day  be 
fore  me  to-morrow." 

"Oh,  but  we  can't  let  you  go  now,  old  man,"  said  Har 
ris,  decidedly.  "You  must  stop  a  while.  If  your  head 
begins  to  ache  and  gets  real  bad,  of  course  you  can  go, 
but  I  don't  see  how  you  can  get  out  now." 

Frank  did  not  see  either.  He  had  accepted  Harris' 
hospitality,  had  eaten  freely  of  the  good  things  Harris 
had  provided,  and  the  boys  would  vote  him  a  prig  if  he 
left  them  for  his  bed  as  soon  as  the  feast  was  finished.  It 
would  seem  that  he  was  afraid  of  being  discovered  absent 
from  his  room — as  if  he  did  not  dare  to  share  the  danger 
with  them. 

Frank  was  generally  very  decided  in  what  he  did,  and 
it  was  quite  unusual  for  him  to  hesitate  over  anything. 

There  is  an  old  saying  that  "He  who  hesitates  is  lost." 

In  this  case  it  proved  true. 


36  An  Irresistible  Temptation. 

"Oh,  all  right,  fellows,"  said  Frank,  lightly.  "I'll  stop 
a  while  and  watch  you  play." 

"But  you  must  take  a  hand — you  really  must,  you 
know,"  urged  Harvey  Dare.  "Our  game  is  small.  We'll 
put  on  a  limit  to  suit  you — anything  you  say." 

"I  do  not  play  poker,  if  that  is  your  game." 

"Don't  you  know  how  ?" 

"Well,  yes,  I  know  a  little  something  about  it,  but  I 
swore  off  more  than  a  year  ago." 

"Nobody  ever  swears  off  on  anything  for  more  than  a 
year.  Sit  in  and  take  a  hand." 

Still  he  refused,  and  they  finally  found  it  useless  to 
urge  him,  so  the  game  was  begun  without  him,  and  he 
looked  on. 

The  limit  was  set  at  ten  centsa  and  it  was  to  be  a  regu 
lar  penny  ante  game. 

There  was  some  hesitation  over  the  limit,  which  Bart 
named,  winking  meaningly  at  one  or  two  of  the  fellows 
who  seemingly  started  to  protest. 

Surely  there  could  not  be  much  harm  in  such  a  light 
game !  No  one  could  lose  a  great  deal. 

The  first  deal  fell  to  Bart,  and  he  shuffled  the  cards  and 
tossed  them  round  in  a  way  that  betokened  considerable 
dexterity  and  practice. 

The  boys  were  inclined  to  be  jolly,  but  they  were  forced 
to  restrain  their  feelings  as  far  as  possible,  for,  although 
the  rooms  near  them  were  unoccupied,  there  was  danger 
that  they  might  be  heard  by  some  one  who  would  in 
vestigate,  and  their  sentinel  might  not  be  able  to  give  the 
warning  in  time. 

As  Frank  -Merriwell  watched  the  game,  a  peculiar  light 
stole  into  his  eyes,  and  he  was  swayed  by  ill-repressed  ex 
citement.  He  was  tempted  to  get  up  and  go  away  for  all 


An  Irresistible  Temptation.  27 

that  anybody  might  say,  but  he  did  not  go;  he  lingered, 
and  he  was  overcome  by  an  irresistible  longing — a  de 
sire  he  could  not  govern.  Finally,  he  exclaimed : 

"What's  the  use  for  me  to  sit  humped  up  here !     Give 
me  a  hand,  and  let  me  in." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A    GAME    OF    BLUFF. 

"That's  the  talk,  old  man!"  exclaimed  Harvey  Dare, 
with  satisfaction.  "Now  you  are  beginning  to  appear 
natural." 

The  other  boys  were  only  too  glad  to  get  Frank  into 
the  game,  and  room  was  quickly  made  for  him,  while  he 
was  given  a  hand. 

The  moment  he  decided  to  play,  he  seemed  to  throw  off 
the  air  of  restraint  that  had  been  about  him  since  he  dis 
covered  the  kind  of  company  Bart  Hodge  had  brought 
him  into.  He  became  his  free-and-easy,  jolly  self,  soon 
cracking  a  joke  or  two  that  set  the  boys  laughing,  and  be 
ginning  by  taking  the  very  first  pot  on  the  table  after 
entering  the  game. 

"That's  bad  luck,"  he  said,  with  a  laugh.  "The  fel 
low  who  wins  at  the  start  usually  loses  at  the  finish,  so  I 
may  as  well  consider  my  fortune  yours.  Some  of  you  will 
become  enormously  wealthy  in  about  fifteen  minutes,  for 
I  won't  last  longer  than  that  if  my  luck  turns." 

He  soon  betrayed  that  he  was  familiar  with  the  game, 
and  luck  ran  to  him  in  a  way  that  made  the  other  boys 
look  tired.  He  seemed  able  to  draw  anything  he  wanted. 

"Say!"  gasped  Sam  Winslow,  in  admiration;  "I 
shouldn't  think  you'd  want  to  play  poker — oh,  no!  If  I 
had  your  luck,  I'd  play  poker  as  a  profession.  Why,  if 


A  Game  of  Bluff.  29 

you  drew  to  a  spike,  you'd  get  a  railroad !  I  never  saw 
anything  like  it." 

Wat  Snell  had  been  losing  right  along,  and  he  sneered : 

"There's  an  old  saying,  'A  fool  for  luck,'  you  know." 

"It  applies  in  this  case,"  laughed  Frank.  "If  I  wasn't 
a  fool,  I  wouldn't  be  in  this  game." 

"What's  the  matter  with  this  game?"  asked  Harris. 
"Isn't  the  limit  high  enough  to  suit  you  ?" 

"That's  the  matter,"  said  Dare,  swiftly.  "Let's  raise 
the  limit." 

"Let's  throw  it  off,"  urged  Snell.  "What's  the  use  of 
limit,  any  how?" 

Frank  shook  his  head. 

"I  don't  believe  in  a  no-limit  game,"  he  said.  "There 
are  none  of  us  millionaires." 

"And  for  that  very  reason,  none  of  us  will  play  a  heavy 
game,"  said  Sam.  "We  have  played  a  no-limit  game  be 
fore,  and  nobody  ever  bets  more  than  a  dollar  or  so.  That 
doesn't  happen  once  a  game,  either." 

"Twenty-five  cents  is  usually  the  limit  of  our  bets,"  de 
clared  Harris. 

"Then  raise  the  limit  to  a  quarter,"  said  Frank.  "I  am 
willing  to  give  you  fellows  a  show  to  get  back  your 
money." 

But  they  did  not  fancy  having  the  limit  a  quarter,  and 
quite  a  long  argument  ensued,  which  resulted  in  the  game 
being  resumed  as  a  no-limit  affair. 

"There!"  breathed  Wat  Snell,  "this  is  something  like 
it.  Now  I  can  do  something.  If  a  fellow  wanted  to 
bluff  he  couldn't  do  it  on  a  ten-cent  limit." 

Hodge  had  said  very  little,  but  he  seemed  willing  and 
ready  to  throw  off  the  limit. 

The  change  of  limit  did  not  seem  to  affect  Merriwell's 
luck,  for  he  continued  to  win. 


3o  A  Game  of  Bluff. 

"I  believe  you  are  a  wizard !"  exclaimed  Sam  Winslow. 
"You  seem  to  read  a  fellow's  cards." 

Wat  Snell  growled  continually,  and  the  more  he 
growled  the  more  he  lost. 

"Oh,  wait  till  I  catch  'em  by-and-by,"  he  said,  as  he 
saw  Frank  rake  in  a  good  pot.  "I  won't  do  a  thing  to 
you,  if  I  get  a  good  chance !" 

"If  you  have  the  cards,  you  will  win,"  was  the  reply. 
"They  are  coming  for  me  now,  and  I  am  simply  playing 
'em." 

Hodge  had  lost  something,  but  he  said  little,  being 
more  than  satisfied  as  long  as  Frank  was  winning. 

Thus  the  hours  passed. 

By  one  o'clock  Frank  was  far  ahead  of  the  game,  but 
he  still  played  on,  for  he  knew  it  would  not  seem  right 
for  him  to  propose  stopping. 

Dare,  Harris  and  Winslow  were  nearly  broken,  but 
they  still  hung  on,  hoping  for  a  turn  in  their  direction. 

Snell  had  plenty  of  money,  for  all  that  he  had  been 
the  heaviest  loser. 

Finally  there  came  a  good-sized  jackpot,  which  Dare 
opened.  Snell  was  the  next  man,  and  he  promptly  raised 
it  fifty  cents.  Winslow  dropped  out,  and  Hodge  raised 
Snell  fifty  cents.  Then  it  came  Frank's  turn,  and  he 
simply  staid  in.  Harris  was  dealing,  and  he  dropped  out, 
while  Dare  simply  "made  good." 

This  gave  Snell  his  turn,  and  he  "boosted"  two 
dollars. 

"Whew !"  breathed  Winslow.  "That  settles  me.  I'm 
out." 

Hodge  was  game,  and  he  "came  up"  on  a  pair  of  nines. 

Snell  was  watching  Merriwell,  and  the  latter  quietly 
pushed  in  two  dollars,  which  finished  the  betting  till  cards 
were  drawn,  as  Dare  dropped  out,  after  some  deliberation. 


A  Game  of  Bluff.  31 

"How  many  ?"  asked  Harris,  of  Snell. 

"Don't  want  any,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

Hodge  took  three,  as  also  did  Merriwell,  which  plainly 
indicated  they  had  a  pair  each. 

"Snell  has  this  pot  in  a  canter,"  said  Harris. 

Snell  bet  five  dollars,  doing  it  in  a  way  that  seemed  to 
say  he  was  not  risking  anything. 

Hodge  dropped  his  nines,  which  he  had  not  bettered, 
and  that  left  Merriwell  and  Snell  to  fight  it  out. 

"This  is  why  I  object  to  a  limit  being  taken  off  a 
game,"  said  Frank.  "It  spoils  the  fun,  and  makes  it  a 
clean  case  of  gambling." 

"It's  too  late  to  make  that  kind  of  talk,"  sneered  Snell. 
"You  are  in  it  now.  Do  you  call  ?" 

"No,"  replied  Frank,  "but  I  will  see  your  five  dollars, 
and  put  in  another." 

This  created  a  stir,  but  Snell  seemed  delighted. 

"I  admire  your  blood,"  he  said,  "but  the  bluff  won't  go 
with  me.  Here's  the  five,  and  I  will  raise  ten." 

Now  there  was  excitement. 

Frank's  cards  lay  face  downward  on  the  table,  and 
every  one  was  wondering  what  he  could  have  found  to  go 
up  against  Snell's  pat  hand.  He  was  wonderfully  calm, 
as  he  turned  to  Bart,  and  asked : 

"Will  you  loan  me  something?" 

"Every  cent  I  have,"  was  the  instant  reply,  as  Hodge 
took  out  a  roll  of  bills  and  threw  it  on  the  table.  "Use 
what  you  want." 

There  were  thirty-five  dollars  in  the  roll.  Frank 
counted  it  over  carefully,  and  then  put  it  all  into  the  pot, 
raising  Snell  twenty-five  dollars ! 

When  he  saw  this,  Snell's  nerve  suddenly  left  him. 
His  face  paled  and  his  hands  shook. 

"Whoever  heard  of  such  infernal  luck  as  that  fellow 


32  A  Game  of  Bluff. 

has !"  he  grated.  "Held  up  a  pair,  and  must  have  fours 
now!" 

Frank  said  not  a  word.  His  face  was  quiet,  and  he 
seemed  waiting  for  Snell  to  do  something. 

"If  you  haven't  the  money  to  call  him "  began 

Harris. 

"I  have,"  declared  Snell ;  "but  what's  the  use.  A  man 
can't  beat  fool-luck!  Here's  my  hand,  and  I'll  allow  I 
played  it  for  all  it  is  worth." 

He  threw  the  cards  face  upward  on  the  table,  and 
smothered  exclamations  of  astonishment  came  from  the 
boys. 

His  hand  contained  no  more  than  a  single  pair  of  four- 
spots  ! 

"Then  you  do  not  mean  to  call  me  ?"  asked  Frank. 

"Of  course  not !     Think  I'm  a  blooming  idiot !" 

"The  pot  is  mine?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  will  allow  I  played  this  hand  for  all  it  is 
worth,"  said  the  winner,  as  he  turned  his  cards  over  so  all 
could  see  what  they  were. 

Wat  Snell  nearly  fainted. 

Merriwell's  hand  was  made  up  of  a  king,  eight  spot, 
five  spot,  and  one  pair  of  deuces ! 

It  had  been  a  game  of  bluff,  and  Frank  Merriwell  had 
won. 


CHAPTER  V. 
FRANK'S  REVELATION. 

"Great  Caesar !"  gasped  Harvey  Dare.  "Will  you  look 
at  that!  That  is  what  I  call  nerve  for  you!  That  is 
playing,  my  boys !" 

Wat  Snell  rose  slowly  to  his  feet,  his  face  very  white. 

"It's  robbery !"  came  hoarsely  from  his  lips. 

"Steady,  Snell!"  warned  Harvey  Dare.  "You  were 
beaten  at  your  own  game — that's  all." 

Snell  knew  this,  but  it  simply  served  to  make  his  rage 
and  chagrin  all  the  deeper. 

"I  am  not  a  professional  card  player,"  he  said,  bitterly, 
"and  I  am  no  match  for  a  professional." 

He  was  more  deeply  cut  by  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
been  beaten  than  by  the  loss  of  his  money. 

"Nor  am  I  a  professional,"  came  quietly  from  Frank 
Merriwell's  lips,  as  he  quickly  sorted  from  the  pot  the 
money  he  had  placed  therein.  "I  simply  sized  you  up  as 
on  the  bluff,  and  I  was  right.  I  don't  want  your  money, 
Snell ;  take  it.  'I  set  into  this  game  for  amusement,  and 
not  with  the  idea  of  beating  anybody  to  any  such  ex 
tent  as  this." 

Snell  hesitated,  and  then  the  hot  blood  mounted  quickly 
to  his  face,  which  had  been  so  pale  a  few  moments  before. 

"No,  I  will  not  take  the  money !"  he  grated.  "I  take 
the  offer  as  an  insult,  Merriwell." 

"No  insult  is  intended,  I  assure  you." 


34  Frank's  Revelation. 

Snell  was  shrewd  enough  to  know  he  would  stand  little 
chance  of  getting  into  another  game  of  poker  with  that 
company  if  he  accepted  the  money,  and  so  he  made  a 
desperate  effort  to  control  his  rage  and  play  the  hypocrite. 

"I  don't  suppose  you  did  mean  the  offer  as  an  insult, 
Merriwell ;  and  I  presume  I  was  too  hasty.  -I  am  rather 
quick  at  times,  and,  as  Dare  says,  I  was  beaten  at  my  own 
game,  which  made  me  hot.  You  had  nerve,  Merriwell; 
take  the  money — keep  it." 

The  words  almost  choked  him,  but  he  pretended  to  be 
quite  sincere,  although  his  heart  was  full  of  bitterness 
and  a  longing  to  "get  even." 

It  was  some  time  before  Frank  could  be  persuaded  to 
accept  his  winnings,  and,  when  he  did  finally  take  it,  he 
was  resolved  to  return  it  quietly  and  secretly  to  Snell,  at 
such  a  time  that  no  one  else  could  know  anything  of  it. 

'This  matter  was  scarcely  settled  when  there  came  a 
peculiar  rap  on  the  door. 

"Who's  that?"  asked  Frank,  in  some  alarm. 

"It's  our  sentinel,"  assured  Harris.  "His  time  on  post 
is  up." 

The  door  opened,  and  Leslie  Gage  entered  the  room. 

Gage  had  been  Merriwell's  bitter  enemy  at  one  time 
during  the  summer  encampment,  having  made  two  das 
tardly  attacks  on  Frank,  who  had  been  generous  enough 
to  rescue  him  from  death  after  that,  and  had  saved  him 
'from  expulsion  by  refusing  to  give  any  testimony  against 
him. 

For  all  of  this  generosity  on  Merriwell's  part,  Gage 
still  bore  deep  down  in  his  heart  a  hatred  for  the  plebe 
who  had  become  so  popular  at  the  academy.  This  he 
tried  to  keep  concealed,  pretending  that  he  had  changed 
into  a  friend  and  admirer. 


Frank's  Revelation.  35 

"Hello,  Merriwell,"  he  saluted.  "Been  having  a  little 
whirl  with  the  boys?" 

"I  should  say  he  has !"  replied  Snell.  "He  has  whirled 
me  wrong  end  up,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  am  still  twisted." 

Then  the  whole  play  was  explained  to  Gage,  who 
chuckled  over  it,  and  complimented  Frank  on  his  nerve. 

For  all  of  this  apparent  restoration  of  good  feeling, 
Frank  was  discerning  enough  to  detect  the  insincerity  of 
both  Snell  and  Gage. 

Gage  had  done  his  duty  as  guard,  and  there  was  no  one 
on  the  watch  now.  None  of  the  boys  felt  like  taking  the 
place,  so  it  was  decided  to  call  the  "session"  over  for  that 
night. 

"You  must  come  again,  Merriwell,"  said  Dare.  "You 
have  given  us  the  sensation  of  the  evening,  and  you  must 
let  Snell  have  a  chance  to  get  square." 

"Yes,"  said  Snell,  "all  I  ask  is  a  fair  chance  to  get 
square.  If  I  fail,  I  won't  say  a  word,  and  I'll  acknowl 
edge  you  are  the  best  fellow.  Let's  shake  hands,  Merri 
well,  and  call  it  quits  for  the  time  being." 

"That's  the  stuff!"  came  from  Sam  Winslow.  "Now 
everything  is  quiet  on  the  Potomac  again." 

Frank  shook  hands  with  Snell,  and  a  few  moments  later 
the  boys  began  to  slip  from  the  room  and  skurry  along 
the  corridors  to  their  rooms,  which  all  reached  without 
being  challenged  by  the  sentries. 

Bart  was  filled  with  satisfaction  and  delight,  and  before 
getting  into  bed  he  whispered  to  Frank,  not  daring  to 
speak  aloud  in  that  room : 

"That  was  the  prettiest  trick  I  ever  saw  \  And  I  was 
delighted  to  see  you  rub  that  fellow.  He  hasn't  done  a 
thing  to  me  but  win  every  time  I  have  held  up  a  hand 
against  him  of  late." 

Frank  said  nothing,  and  had  there  been  a  light  in  the 


36  Frank's  Revelation. 

room,  Bart  would  have  seen  that  his  face  bore  an  expres 
sion  that  was  anything  but  one  of  satisfaction. 

Merriwell  did  not  sleep  well  during  the  few  hours  be 
fore  reveille.  His  slumber  was  filled  with  dreams,  and 
he  muttered  and  moaned  very  often,  awaking  Hodge  once 
or  twice. 

"I  guess  he  is  still  playing,"  thought  Bart. 

At  reveille  Frank  was,  as  a  rule,  very  prompt  about 
springing  out  of  bed  and  hurrying  into  his  clothes  and 
through  his  toilet.  On  the  morning  after  the  game,  how 
ever,  he  continued  to  sleep  till  Hodge  awakened  him  by  a 
fierce  shaking. 

"Come,  come,  man!"  said  Bart;  "turn  out.  Are  you 
going  to  let  a  little  thing  like  last  night  break  you  up  ?" 

Frank  got  up  wearily  and  stiffly. 

"I  didn't  sleep  well,"  he  said. 

He  was  quite  unlike  his  usual  spirited  self. 

"Get  a  brace  on,"  urged  Bart.  "You  want  to  be  on 
hand  at  roll-call." 

Finding  it  was  necessary  to  "get  a  brace  on,"  Frank  did 
so,  and  was  able  to  leave  the  room  in  time  to  go  rushing 
down  the  stairway  and  spring  into  ranks  at  the  last 
second. 

After  breakfast,  as  Bart  was  sprucing  up  the  room, 
and  Frank  was  vainly  trying  to  prepare  himself  for  the 
first  recitation,  but  simply  sat  staring  in  a  bewildered  way 
at  the  book  he  held,  the  former  said : 

"You  don't  know  what  a  slick  trick  you  did  last  night, 
Merriwell!  Why,  I'd  given  almost  anything  if  I  had 
been  the  one  to  soak  Snell  in  that  fashion." 

Frank  put  down  the  book,  and  rose  to  his  feet,  pacing 
twice  the  length  of  the  room.  All  at  once  he  stopped  and 
faced  Bart,  and  his  voice  was  not  steady,  as  he  said : 


Frank's  Revelation.  37 

"You  didn't  mean  any  harm,  old  man,  but  you  did  me 
a  bad  turn  last  night." 

Bart  stared,  and  asked: 

"How?" 

"By  taking  me  where  I  could  sit  into  a  game  like  that. 
I  am  going  to  tell  you  something.  I  have  one  great  fail 
ing — one  terrible  fault  that  quite  overshadows  all  my 
other  failings  and  faults.  That  is  my  passion  for  cards — 
or,  to  put  it  more  strongly  and  properly,  my  passion  for 
gambling." 

Bart  whistled. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  have  a  failing  or  a 
fault  that  you  cannot  govern,  do  you  ?"  he  asked. 

Frank  put  out  one  hand,  and  partly  turned  away.  In 
stantly  Bart  sprang  forward  and  caught  the  hand,  saying 
swiftly : 

"There,  there,  Merriwell— don't  notice  it!  I  didn't 
mean  anything.  You  are  sensitive  to-day.  Hang  it  all, 
man !  do  you  think  I  want  to  hurt  your  feelings  without 
cause!  I  shouldn't  have  said  it,  for  I  see  you  are  not 
yourself." 

"No,  I  am  not,"  confessed  Frank.  "You  know  every 
fellow  has  a  secret.  I  did  not  intend  to  tell  mine.  I  be 
lieve  I  was  born  with  an  intense  passion  for  gambling." 

"And  you  cannot  govern  it?" 

"Well,  I  have  been  able  to  do  so  during  the  past  year." 

"Oh,  you  are  all  right;  you  have  a  strong  mind 
and " 

"Every  strong  mind  has  a  weak  spot.  I  began  gam 
ing  by  playing  marbles,  and  the  passion  grew  on  me. 
When  I  had  money,  I  gambled  for  cents  and  nickels.  As 
I  grew  older,  I  learned  to  play  cards,  and  I  gambled  for 
larger  sums.  If  I  knew  that  a  game  was  going  on  I 


38  Frank's  Revelation. 

would  leave  everything  to  get  into  it.  Once  I  'appro 
priated'  money  from  my  mother's  purse  to  gamble  with." 

Frank  stopped.  His  face  crimsoned  as  he  uttered  the 
words,  and  he  showed  his  deep  shame  and  humiliation. 
But  he  quickly  added : 

"That  was  my  first  and  last  theft.  The  shame  and  dis 
grace  of  exposure  by  my  mother  was  nearly  more  than  I 
could  endure.  But  she  did  not  know  I  played  cards  for 
money.  Thank  God!  she  never  knew!  She  died  when 
I  was  twelve  years  old. 

"I  never  knew  much  about  my  father's  business.  He 
was  much  away  from  home,  and  I  saw  him  but  little. 
After  mother's  death,  I  went  to  live  with  my  uncle.  Still 
I  played  cards  for  money,  and  the  passion  grew  upon  me. 
A  little  more  than  a  year  ago  I  was  rapidly  developing 
into  a  young  gambler.  Then  came  news  of  my  father's 
sudden  death  in  California,  and  I  swore  I  would  never 
play  cards  again.  Last  night  I  broke  my  oath." 

"What  was  the  cause  of  your  father's  death?"  asked 
Bart,  by  way  of  saying  something. 

"He  was  shot  over  a  game  of  cards  in  a  gambling- 
house,"  replied  Frank,  hoarsely. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  PLOT. 

Wat  Snell  and  Leslie  Gage  were  roommates,  and  they 
certainly  made  a  delectable  pair. 

Gage  was  naturally  the  leader,  being  the  worse  of  the 
two.  He  was  a  daring  and  reckless  sort  of  fellow — one 
who  would  not  stop  at  anything,  and  who  would  have  re 
course  to  almost  any  measure  to  gain  his  ends. 

This  revengeful  fellow  had  never  forgiven  Merriwell 
for  what  he  considered  a  great  injury.  Gage  had  been 
the  pitcher  on  the  regular  ball  team,  but,  by  superior  skill, 
Merriwell  had  supplanted  him.  That  was  enough  to  pro 
duce  in  Gage's  heart  a  feeling  of  undying  hatred  for  the 
successful  plebe. 

It  made  no  difference  that  Frank  had,  in  all  probability, 
saved  him  from  death  after  he  had  twice  attempted  to  kill 
Merriwell.  Gage  had  been  shrewd  enough  to  see  that  he 
must  dissemble  if  he  would  remain  in  the  academy,  and  so 
he  pretended  to  be  repentant  and  to  think  Frank  one  of 
the  finest  fellows  in  the  world,  while  his  hatred  and  long 
ing  for  "revenge"  still  lay  hidden,  black  and  hideous,  in  a 
secret  corner  of  his  heart. 

Snell  was  quite  a  different  sort  of  bad  boy.  He  re 
garded  Gage  as  his  superior,  and  he  was  ready  to  do  al 
most  anything  for  the  fellow,  but  he  could  not  imitate 
Leslie's  daring,  and  he  kept  his  own  vileness  so  much  con 
cealed  that  many  square,  honest  lads  believed  he  was  a 


40  The  Plot. 

really  good  fellow.  Bart  Hodge  had  begun  to  think 
Snell  was  a  sneak  and  bad,  but  he  had  no  proof  of  it, 
and  so  he  kept  still. 

Wat  was  in  anything  but  a  pleasant  mood  the  day  after 
the  game  of  cards.  He  flung  things  round  the  room  in  a 
way  that  caused  Gage  to  regard  him  with  wonder,  as  it 
was  so  much  unlike  the  usual  quiet,  crafty  roommate  he 
knew. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Wat?"  he  asked,  in  sur 
prise.  "You  must  be  ill.  Go  directly  and  place  those 
things  where  they  belong,  for  we  never  know  when  one 
of  those  blooming  inspectors  will  pop  in.  I  am  room  or 
derly  this  week,  and  am  going  to  have  things  kept 
straight,  for  I  can't  afford  to  take  any  more  demerit. 
My  record  is  bad  enough  as  it  stands." 

So,  with  a  little  grumbling,  Wat  went  about  and  re 
stored  to  order  the  things  he  had  disarranged,  but  he 
could  not  help  thinking  how  often,  when  he  was  room  or 
derly,  he  had  been  obliged  to  follow  Gage  about,  and 
gather  up  things  he  had  displaced. 

"What's  the  matter?"  repeated  Leslie,  who  suspected 
the  truth.  "You  don't  seem  to  feel  well,  old  boy." 

"Oh,  it's  nothing,"  replied  Wat.  "I  was  thinking  of 
last  night." 

"And  raising  all  this  row  because  you  happened  to  drop 
a  dollar.  tW'hy,  that's  the  run  of  the  cards." 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  what  I  lost  that  made  me  mad." 

"Then  what  was  it?" 

"Why,  I  was  thinking  that  that  fellow  Merriwell 
won." 

"And  I  presume  you  were  thinking  how  he  won  the  last 
Vot,  eh?" 

"Yes"— sullenly. 

MYou  don't  love  Merriwell  a  great  deal?" 


The  Plot.  41 

"I  should  say  not !     I  despise  the  fellow !" 

"And  you'd  like  to  get  square  ?" 

"Wouldn't  I !" 

"I  suppose  you  mean  to  do  so?" 

"If  I  ever  get  the  chance — yes." 

"I  fancy  you  are  aware  that  I  am  not  dead  stuck  on 
Merriwell  myself?" 

"Yes,  I  know." 

"I  have  an  old  score  to  settle  with  him,  and  I  will  set 
tle  it  some  way.  I  failed  in  one  or  two  attempts  to  do 
him  up,  for " 

"You  were  altogether  too  bold,  partner  mine ;  and  it's 
a  wonder  you  were  not  expelled  from  the  academy.  You 
would  have  been  if  Merriwell  had  blowed  on  you." 

"That's  right,  and  he  would  have  done  so  if  he  had 
known  what  was  good  for  him.  He  is  soft !" 

"In  some  things  he  may  be  soft,  but  you  must  ac 
knowledge  he  is  hard  enough  in  others.  He  has  a  way 
of  coming  on  top  in  almost  everything." 

Gage  could  not  deny  this,  and  it  made  him  angry  to 
think  of  it. 

"You  are  right,"  he  said,  fiercely.  "I  suppose  I  was 
foolish  to  fight  him  in  the  way  I  did.  That  big  bully 
Bascomb  got  a  hold  on  me,  and  he  has  been  blackmailing 
me  ever  since.  Hang  that  fellow!  I'll  choke  the  wind 
out  of  him  yet!" 

A  crafty  look  came  to  Snell's  face,  and  he  said : 

"There  are  ways  to  down  a  fellow  without  showing 
your  hand." 

"I  suppose  so ;  but  it  usually  takes  too  long  to  suit  me. 
I  like  to  jump  on  an  enemy  at  once,  and  do  him  up." 

"Well,  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  that  Merriwell  is  the 
kind  of  a  fellow  who  will  not  be  jumped  on  that  way  ?" 

"It  seems  so." 


42  The  Plot. 

"Then  it  is  possible  you  are  ready  to  try  some  other 
method  ?" 

Their  eyes  met,  and  Wat  grinned  significantly. 

"How  do  you  mean?"  asked  Leslie,  eagerly.  "You 
have  some  kind  of  a  scheme?" 

"That  fellow  won  some  money  off  me^  and  I  refused  to 
take  it  back.     He  must  show  up  again,  and  give  me  aj 
chance  to  square  the  score.     He  is  bound  in  honor  not  to 
refuse  to  do  so." 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Gage. 

"Well,  you  are  rather  handy  with  the  cards,  and  I 
reckon  you  will  not  find  it  hard  to  fleece  him." 

"Oh,  I  can  beat  him  out  of  his  money,  but  that  is  poor 
satisfaction  when  you  want  to  disgrace  a  fellow  and  drive 
him  out  of  the  school." 

"We'll  find  a  way  for  that,  if  we  can  get  him  to  fol 
lowing  the  game." 

"I  don't  know  as  I  see  how." 

"His  parents  are  dead." 

"Well?" 

"He  is  supported  by  a  rich  uncle,  who  sent  him  here 
to  this  school." 

"What  of  that?" 

"His  uncle  gives  him  a  regular  allowance.  If  Merri- 
well  exceeds  that  allowance,  there  will  be  inquiries  as  to 
what  he  has  done  with  his  money." 

"I  begin  to  see." 

"This  uncle  is  a  stern,  crusty  old  fellow,  and  he  would 
be  furious  if  he  should  accidentally  find  out  that  his 
nephew  is  gambling.  The  chances  are  about  ten  to  one 
that  he  would  take  him  out  of  Fardale  and  turn  him 
adrift  to  hustle  for  himself." 

Gage's  eyes  began  to  glitter,  and  the  smile  about  his 
mouth  was  most  unpleasant  to  see. 


The  Plot.  43 

"Snell,"  he  said,  "you  have  a  head  on  your  shoulders ! 
You  are  a  dandy  schemer  t  But  how  will  this  uncle  find 
out  that  Merriwell  has  been  gambling  ?" 

"There  are  several  ways  for  him  to  find  it  out.  If 
we  can  get  hold  of  a  few  of  Merriwell's  I  O  U's,  they 
might  be  sent  to  the  uncle  for  collection." 

"I  see ;  but  first  we  must  run  him  out  of  ready  cash." 

"Of  course.  By  the  time  he  has  lost  all  his  money,  he 
will  be  eager  to  play  to  win  it  back.  We  must  lend  h\m 
money,  and  take  his  I  O  U's." 

"We'll  do  it!"  Gage  jumped  up,  struck  Snell  a  blow 
on  the  back,  and  then  grasped  his  hand,  giving  it  a  shake. 

"We'll  do  it!"  he  repeated.  "Merriwell's  goose  is 
beautifully  cooked!" 

Snell  smiled  in  his  crafty  way. 

"I  am  glad  you  take  to  the  scheme,  for  with  your  aid, 
there  ought  not  to  be  any  trouble  in  carrying  it  out." 

"Oh,  we'll  work  it !  'But  how  did  you  find  out  so  much 
about  Merriwell  ?  That's  what  sticks  me.  He  has  been' 
sort  of  a  mystery  here,  as  none  of  the  fellows  knew  ex 
actly  where  he  came  from,  or  anything  about  his  folks." 

"Oh,  I  took  a  fancy  to  get  posted  concerning  him.  At 
first  I  didn't  see  how  I  was  going  to  do  so.  That  was 
during  camp,  and  Hans  Dunnerwust  tented  with  him 
then.  I  cultivated  the  thick-headed  Dutchman,  and  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  into  his  good  graces.  >So  I  often  visited 
Hans  in  the  tent  when  Merriwell  and  Mulloy,  that  Irish 
clown,  who  thinks  Merriwell  the  finest  fellow  in  the 
world,  were  away.  I  kept  my  eyes  open,  and  one  day  I 
spotted  a  letter  to  Merriwell.  I  swiped  it  instanter,  and 
it  helped  me  out,  for  it  was  from  his  uncle." 

"You're  an  artist  in  your  line,  Wat !"  exclaimed  Leslie, 
approvingly. 

"That  letter  didn't  give  me  all  the  information  I  de- 


44  The  Plot. 

sired,"  continued  Snell,  "but  I  found  I  had  a  friend  living 
in  a  town  adjoining  the  one  Merriwell  hails  from,  so  I 
wrote  and  asked  him  to  find  out  a  few  things  for  me.  He 
rode  over  on  his  wheel,  and  found  out  what  I  have  told 
you." 

"Why,  you  are  a  regular  detective,  old  man !" 

"Merriwell's  mother,"  continued  Wat,  "has  been  dead 
several  years.  No  one  seems  to  know  much  about  his 
father,  except  that  he  was  nearly  always  away  from 
home,  and  he  died  suddenly  in  California  a  little  more 
than  a  year  ago.  I  haven't  been  able  to  find  out  that  he 
left  any  property,  so  Merriwell  is  dependent  on;  the  gert- 
erosity  of  a  rather  crabbed  and  crusty  old  uncle,  whose 
head  is  filled  with  freaks  and  fancies.  He  seems  to  be 
just  the  kind  of  a  man  who  would  be  easily  turned  against 
a  nephew  who  had,  as  he  would  consider  it,  gone  astray." 

"That  settles  Merriwell!  If  we  cannot  get  the  old 
uncle  down  on  him,  we  are  pretty  poor  schemers." 

They  looked  at  each  other  and  smiled  again.  A 
precious  pair  of  youthful  plotters  they  were ! 

"We  must  be  slick  about  this  business,"  warned  Snell. 
"We  mustn't  let  anybody  but  ourselves  get  the  least  wind 
of  it." 

"Certainly  not." 

"And  we  must  do  our  prettiest  to  pull  the  wool  over 
Merriwell's  eyes,  for  you  know  he  is  rather  discerning  in 
some  things,  and  he  may  be  inclined  to  be  wary.  We 
must  seem  to  think  he  is  the  finest  fellow  in  the  world." 

"That  will  be  pretty  hard,"  said  Leslie,  with  a  wry 
face,  "but  I  have  been  doing  something  in  that  line  of 
late,  and  I  will  keep  it  up.  That  business  doesn't  come 
so  easy  for  me  as  it  does  for  you." 

"You  can  do  it,  if  you  try.  And  I  shall  depend  on  you 
to  skin  him  with  the  papers." 


The  Plot.  45 

"That  won't  be  hard,  if  he  plays  square." 

"I  don't  think  there  is  any  doubt  about  that.     He  is  one 

of  the  kind  of  fellows  who  doesn't  know  enough  to  play 

any  other  way." 

"Then  Frank  Merriwell's  name  is  mud — with  a  capital 

M." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SPREADING     THE    SNARE. 

The  plot  was  laid,  the  snare  was  set,  but  the  game 
seemed  wary.  For  some  time  Frank  Merriwell  remained 
away  from  those  midnight  gatherings  in  the  room  of  the 
student  who  had  committed  suicide. 

"Hang  the  luck!"  exclaimed  Gage.  "Is  he  going  to 
keep  away  right  along?" 

"He  must  not  be  allowed  to  do  so,"  said  Leslie.  "He 
must  be  shamed  into  coming." 

"That  may  not  be  easy." 

"It  should  not  be  difficult  with  a  fellow  like  Merriwell. 
He  must  give  me  a  chance  to  get  even." 

"Hodge  doesn't  try  to  get  Merriwell  out  again." 

"No.  He  says  he  will  not  influence  him  to  attend  the 
gatherings." 

"What's  the  matter  with  Hodge?" 

"I  don't  know.     He  is  ready  enough  to  come  himself." 

It  was  true  that  Bart  had  positively  refused  to  use  his 
influence  to  induce  Merriwell  to  attend  again  one  of  the 
secret  parties.  He  had  been  greatly  moved  by  Frank's 
revelation,  and  he  had  resolved  not  to  lead  Frank  into 
the  path  that  was  so  fascinating  and  so  dangerous  for 
him.  He  did  not  know  that  the  evil  was  already  done — 
the  fever  was  burning  in  Merriwell's  veins. 

Frank  had  been  waiting  an  opportunity  to  speak  with 


Spreading  the  Snare.  47 

Snell  in  private,  and  it  came  one  day  when  he  met  the  fel 
low  on  the  grounds  outside  the  academy. 

"Hello,  Snell,"  he  saluted.  "I  have  been  looking  for 
you." 

"And  I  have  been  looking  for  you,"  said  Wat,  mean 
ingly.  "Why  haven't  you  ever  come  round  since  that 
night  ?  Aren't  you  going  to  give  a  fellow  a  show  to  get 
square  ?" 

"I  am  not  going  to  play  cards  any  more !" 

"What?"  cried  Wat,  in  apparent  astonishment.  "That 
beats  anything  I  ever  heard !  You  have  beaten  me  out  of 
a  good  roll,  and  now " 

"I  have  been  looking  for  you  that  I  might  return  every 
cent  you  lost  that  night,  so  you  cannot  consider  me  mean 
if  I  do  n6t  give  you  a  chance  to  get  even  over  the  table. 
If  you  will  tell  me  just  how  much  you  dropped,  I'll  make 
it  good  now." 

An  eager  look  came  to  Wat's  face,  but  it  quickly  van 
ished,  for  he  realized  that  he  would  defeat  himself  if  he 
accepted  the  money. 

"What  do  you  take  me  for !"  he  cried,  with  apparent  in 
dignation.  "I  am  not  that  kind  of  a  fellow !" 

"You  need  never  fear  that  I  will  say  anything  about  it, 
for  I  pledge  you  my  word  of  honor  to  say  nothing.  All 
I  want  is  to  make  sure  you  do  not  feel  that  I  have  any> 
money  that  belongs  to  you." 

"I  don't  care  whether  you  say  anything  about  it  or  not, 
Merriwell.  That  does  not  keep  me  from  accepting  the 
money.  I  tell  you  I  am  not  that  kind  of  a  fellow.  You 
won  it,  and  you  will  keep  it,  unless  you  have  nerve  enough 
to  give  me  an  opportunity  to  win  it  back." 

This  did  not  suit  Frank  at  all,  for  the  money  had  lain 
like  a  load  on  his  conscience.  He  had  sworn  not  to  gam 
ble  again,  and  he  had  broken  his  oath.  But,  what  was 


48  Spreading  the  Snare. 

worse,  so  long  as  he  kept  that  money,  he  felt  that  he 
really  ought  to  give  Snell  a  chance  to  get  square.  There 
seemed  but  one  way  to  get  out  of  playing  again,  and  that 
was  to  make  Snell  take  back  the  money. 

But  it  was  useless  for  him  to  urge  Wat;  not  a  dollar 
would  the  fellow  accept. 

"You  can't  give  me  back  anything,"  declared  Snell. 
"You  won  that  money  by  having  the  most  nerve — at  that 
time.  But  you  can't  repeat  the  trick,  old  man,"  he  added, 
jovially.  "Come  around  to-night,  and  see  if  you  can." 

Frank  shook  his  head. 

"No,"  he  declared,  "I  shall  not  come." 

"Oh,  what's  the  use,  Merriwell!  We  want  you  to 
come,  and  all  the  fellows  are  saying  it  is  not  like  you  to 
win  a  few  dollars  and  then  stay  away.  I  have  told  them 
over  and  over  that  I  do  not  believe  you  are  staying  away 
because  you  are  afraid  I  will  win  the  money  back.  You're 
not  that  kind  of  a  fellow." 

At  that  moment  Snell  seemed  very  sincere,  and  Frank 
said: 

"Thank  you.  I  am  glad  to  know  you  do  not  believe 
such  a  thing  possible  of  me.  Still,  I  shall  not  come." 

"Oh,  yes  you  will!"  laughed  Wat.  "It  can't  be  that 
you're  afraid  of  being  caught.  If  anybody  says  so,  I'll 
swear  I  know  better.  You  have  nerve  enough  not  to  care 
for  that.  Come  around  to-night.  We'll  look  for  you." 

Snell  hurried  away,  knowing  full  well  that  he  had  said 
things  which  must  worry  Merriwell,  if  they  did  not  drive 
him  into  coming  to  the  midnight  card  parties. 

Wat  was  right.  Frank  was  worried  not  a  little,  for  he 
could  not  bear  to  fancy  that  some  of  the  boys  thought  him 
mean  in  staying  away.  Hodge  saw  Merriwell  was 
troubled,  but  the  dark -haired  boy  remained  silent. 

In  the  meantime,  finding  Hodge  would  do  nothing  to 


Spreading  the  Snare.  49 

bring  Merriwell  round,  Gage  and  Snell  tried  their  best  to 
make  friends  with  Hans  Dunnerwust  and  Barney  Mulloy, 
as  these  boys  were  particular  friends  of  Merriwell's,  and 
might  be  induced  to  use  some  influence  over  him. 

Barney,  however,  was  wary.  He  did  not  fancy  either 
Gage  or  Snell,  and  he  repulsed  their  advances. 

To  Hans,  the  temptation  of  a  midnight  supper  on  cakes 
and  pies  was  too  much  to  resist,  and  he  was  added  to  the 
circle  that  gathered  in  the  room  of  the  suicide. 

Hans  could  play  poker,  and  the  game  being  made  small 
enough  to  suit  him,  he  came  in  and  won  about  two  dollars, 
which  made  him  swell  up  like  a  toad,  and  declared : 

"Uf  you  poys  know  some  games  vot  I  can  play  petter 
as  dot  boker,  shust  you  name  him,  und  I  vill  do  you  at 
dot.  Oh,  I  vose  a  dandy  on  trucks,  ain'd  it  ?  Shust  keep 
your  eye  on  me,  und  I  vill  learn  some  tricks  vot  you 
don'd  know  alretty  yet." 

Snell  did  his  best  to  make  Hans  believe  he  was  a  great 
favorite,  and  then  he  told  him  how  Frank  had  won  the 
only  time  he  had  appeared  in  the  game,  and  had  never 
come  around  since. 

"Some  of  the  fellows  seem  to  think  he  is  afraid  I  will 
win  the  money  back,"  said  Wat;  "but  I  don't  take  any 
stock  in  that,  for  Merriwell's  not  that  kind  of  a  fellow. 
Still,  I  don't  like  to  have  such  ideas  concerning  him  get 
into  circulation." 

"Dot  vos  vere  I  vos  righdt,"  nodded  Hans.  "He  don't 
peen  dot  kindt  uf  a  feller  ad  all,  you  pet  me  my  shirt! 
Dot  Vrankie  Merrivell  vos  a  taisy,  undt  he  don'd  peen 
afrait  a  show  to  gif  anypody.  You  vait  till  I  tell  him 
vot  dose  fellers  say.  I  pet  me  your  life  he  vill  gome 
aroundt  bretty  kuveek  righdt  avay." 

"Oh,  don't  say  anything  about  it !"  exclaimed  Snell,  as 
if  he  really  wished  Hans  to  keep  silent.  "Merriwell 


5o  Spreading  the  Snare. 

knows  his  business.     His  friends  will  stand  up  for  him, 
no  matter  what  others  may  say." 

"Veil,  I  vos  going  to  toldt  him  dot  shust  der  same. 
Uf  he  don'd  peen  aroundt  here  der  next  dime,  I  don'd 
know  der  kindt  uv  a  feller  vot  he  vos  peen  yet  avile." 

"Well,  don't  mention  that  I  said  anything.  He  might 
fancy  I  thought  him  afraid  to  come  round." 

"I  don'd  call  your  name  at  all,  don'd  you  let  me  vorry 
apout  dot." 

Snell  knew  the  Dutch  boy  would  lose  little  time  in 
communicating  with  Frank,  and  he  was  right.  Hans  did 
not  see  that  Frank  was  little  like  his  usual  jovial  self,  and 
he  did  not  know  in  what  a  turbulent  state  of  mind  the  un 
fortunate  plebe  was  left. 

Bart  was  not  a  little  worried  over  Frank,  for  he  saw 
how  the  lad  had  changed  in  a  short  time,  but  he  hoped 
that  Merriwell  would  come  round  in  time,  and  be  his  old 
jolly  self. 

That  evening,  a  short  while  before  taps,  Frank  asked : 

"I  suppose  it  is  another  card  party  to-night?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Bart,  "a  few  of  us  are  going  to  get 
together." 

"Will  Snell  be  there?" 
t    "I  presume  so." 

No  more  was  said.  Bart  rose  and  slipped  out  of  the 
room  at  the  usual  time,  thinking  Frank  was  asleep. 

But  Frank  was  not  asleep,  and  Hodge  was  scarcely 
gone  when  he,  too,  arose  and  began  to  arrange  a  dummy 
in  his  bed. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE     HAUNTED    ROOM. 

The  little  party  of  card  players  was  expectantly  await 
ing  the  appearance  of  Bartley  Hodge. 

There  was  to  be  no  feast  this  night — nothing  but  cig 
arettes  and  draw  poker. 

Hodge  appeared  at  last,  and  he  brought  a  disappoint 
ment  to  at  least  two  of  the  party,  for  Frank  Merriwell 
was  not  with  him. 

Leslie  Gage  and  Wat  Snell  exchanged  glances  that 
were  full  of  meaning. 

Sam  Winslow  was  on  guard  outside,  it  being  his  turn 
to  fill  that  unenviable  position. 

"Hello,  Hodge,"  saluted  Harvey  Dare.  "Now  we  are 
ready  to  proceed  to  business." 

"Dot  vas  righdt,"  nodded  Hans  Dunnerwust,  who  was 
on  hand.  "I  vcs  goin'  to  smoke  cigarreds  to-nighd  dill 
I  vos  sick,  und  haf  a  pully  dime." 

"Why  doesn't  Merriwell  ever  show  up  again?"  asked 
Leslie  Gage. 

"That's  it,"  joined  in  Wat  Snell,  "why  doesn't  he  come 
round  and  give  a  fellow  a  show  to  win  back  some  of  that 
money  he  won  off  us  ?  Is  he  afraid  ?" 

"You  know  well  enough  that  Frank  Merriwell  is  not 
afraid,"  said  Bart,  quickly. 

"Well,  it  looks  that  way,"  declared  Leslie. 

"Yes,  it  looks  that  way,"  echoed  Wat. 


52  The  Haunted  Room. 

"Possibly  he  has  too  much  sense  to  spend  his  nights 
here,"  said  Hodge.  "If  I  had  known  that  much,  I 
wouldn't  have  gone  back  a  class.  Merriwell  is  in  the  first 
section,  and  he  is  making  right  along." 

"Well,  he  is  a  different  fellow  than  I  thought  he  was," 
asserted  Snell.  "Until  lately,  he  has  seemed  quite  a 
fellow  for  sport,  but  he  is  degenerating  into  a  drone." 

"Such  drones  are  the  fellows  who  get  along  well  in 
school  and  in  the  world." 

"Bah!  Give  me  a  fellow  with  blood  in  him!"  came 
contemptuously  from  Gage. 

Leslie  had  grown  desperate,  having  come  to  the  con 
clusion  that  Frank  was  not  to  be  cajoled  into  playing 
poker  any  more.  He  now  determined,  of  a  sudden,  that 
he  would  take  another  tack,  and  see  if  he  could  not  anger 
Merriwell  into  coming. 

Hodge  remembered  that  Gage  had  tried  to  injure 
Frank  in  the  past,  and  the  dark-eyed  plebe  was  ready  to 
blaze  forth  in  an  instant.  Although  he  did  not  know  it, 
Gage  was  treading  on  the  very  thin  crust  that  covered  a 
smoldering  volcano. 

Leslie  was  not  warned  by  the  fire  that  gleamed  in 
Bart's  eyes,  for  he  continued : 

"If  Merriwell  persists  in  staying  away — if  he  does  not 
show  up  and  give  Snell  a  chance  to  get  square,  he  is " 

A  knock  at  the  door ! 

It  was  the  regular  signal  for  admittance,  and  so,  after 
the  first  start  of  alarm,  George  Harris  said : 

"Open  up  quickly.  It  must  be  Sam,  and,  if  so,  there's 
something  wrong  in  the  wind." 

Wat  Snell  opened  the  door,  and,  to  their  amazement, 
into  the  room  stepped  Frank  Merriwell ! 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  the  boys  suppressed  a  shout 
of  welcome. 


The  Haunted  Room  53 

Snell  quickly  closed  the  door,  and  then  the  boys  rushed 
at  Frank  and  shook  his  hand  delightedly. 

"You're  a  sight  for  sore  eyes !"  exclaimed  Wat  Snell, 
joyously. 

"Dot  vos  so !"  agreed  Hans.  "You  vould  peen  a  sighd 
for  a  plind  man!" 

"I  will  take  back  anything  I  said,  and  swallow  what  I 
was  going  to  say,"  came  from  Leslie  Gage.  "I  didn't 
think  it  could  be  possible  you  wouldn't  come  round  again, 
old  man." 

"Now,  we  will  have  a  jolly  little  racket,"  said  George 
Harris.  "And  you  want  to  look  out  for  Merriwell.  He 
is  a  great  bluffer." 

"But  he  doesn't  bluff  all  the  time,"  supplemented  Har 
vey  Dare.  "I  found  out  that  he  held  cards  occasionally, 
for  I  called  him  a  few  the  last  time  he  was  around." 

Frank  laughed ;  it  was  his  old,  jolly  laugh,  suppressed 
somewhat.  He  seemed  like  himself  once  more,  as  Bart 
Hodge  instantly  noted.  He  had  cast  off  the  strain  under 
which  he  had  been  for  so  long,  and  now  Frank  Merriwell, 
mischievous  and  full  of  fun,  was  on  deck  again. 

But  this  did  not  quite  please  Hodge,  who  watched  his 
roommate  closely,  his  uneasiness  growing  as  he  saw 
how  care-free  Merriwell  seemed.  What  had  brought 
about  such  a  change  ?  Had  Frank  thrown  his  resolutions 
to  the  wind  ? 

"I've  got  a  supply  of  coffin-nails,"  said  Snell,  as  he 
produced  several  packages  of  cigarettes.  "Help  your 
selves,  gentlemen.  Pass  them  round." 

Round  they  went,  and  when  they  reached  Frank  Merri 
well  he  accepted  one. 

"I  am  going  to  be  real  dissipated  to-night,"  he  laughed, 
as  he  struck  a  match  and  "fired  up."  "You  may  have  to 


54  The  Haunted  Room. 

carry  me  to  my  room  on  a  shutter,  for  I  actually  am  going 
to  smoke !" 

Leslie  Gage  and  Wat  Snell  exchanged  glances  of  satis 
faction. 

A  black  look  came  to  Bart  Hodge's  face,  and  he  half 
started  up  as  Frank  took  the  cigarette,  acting  as  if  he 
would  utter  a  warning.  Then  he  settled  back  in  his  seat, 
thinking : 

"Let  him  smoke,  if  he  wants  to.  One  cigarette  will  do 
nobody  harm." 

But  Hodge  knew  in  his  heart  that  it  was  not  the  smok 
ing  of  one  or  a  dozen  cigarettes  that  was  dangerous  to 
Merriwell ;  it  was  the  breaking  of  his  resolutions — it  was 
the  feeling  of  abandon  and  recklessness  that  had  seemed 
to  seize  upon  him. 

Not  much  time  was  lost  in  beginning  the  game,  but  now 
Bart  insisted  on  a  proper  limit. 

"What  do  you  say,  Merriwell?"  asked  George  Harris. 
"What  kind  of  a  limit  suits  you  ?" 

"Anything  from  five  cents  to  the  sky,"  was  the  laugh 
ing  reply.  "Fix  it  to  suit  yourselves." 

Once  more  Gage  and  Snell  exchanged  glances. 

Bart  stuck  for  a  moderate  limit,  but  he  finally  agreed 
to  make  it  a  dollar,  the  ante  being  five  cents. 

"Veil,  uf  I  had  pad  luck,  I  don'd  last  long  at  dot,"  said 
Hans.  "I  don'd  haf  more  as  four  tollars  und  sefen 
cends." 

"Merriwell  won  at  the  start  the  last  time  he  was  here, 
and  he  kept  the  luck  straight  through  to  the  finish,"  ob 
served  Harvey  Dare.  "It  isn't  often  such  a  thing  oc 
curs." 

A  few  minutes  later,  as  Harris  beat  Frank,  the  latter 
said: 

"This  game  starts  differently  from  the  other,  fellows. 


The  Haunted  Room.  55 

I  have  lost  at  the  beginning,  and  to  keep  up  the  prece 
dent  I  have  established,  I  must  lose  all  through  it." 

He  said  this  smilingly,  as  if  he  really  wished  to  lose. 

As  the  cards  were  being  dealt,  Bart,  who  sat  by  his 
roommate's  side,  leaned  toward  Frank,  and  softly  asked: 
j    "What  made  you  come,  old  man?" 
*    "Couldn't  keep  away,"  was  the  reply. 

"Well,  be  careful — keep  watch  of  yourself." 

"Not  to-night,  Bart.  I  am  going  to  let  loose  on  this 
occasion." 

Frank  played  recklessly  from  the  start,  and  fortune 
fluctuated  with  him,  for  he  would  forge  ahead  and  then 
drop  behind,  but  he  was  never  much  ahead,  nor  far  be 
hind.  For  all  of  his  careless  playing,  he  seemed  to  hang 
about  even. 

Leslie  Gage  was  too  shrewd  to  try  to  get  at  Frank  on 
this  occasion,  for  he  wanted  Merriwell  to  win  again,  so 
they  would  get  a  still  firmer  hold  upon  him. 

Wat  Snell  lost  steadily,  soon  beginning  to  growl,  and 
keeping  it  up.  Once,  under  cover  of  conversation  the 
others  were  making,  he  leaned  toward  Gage  and  mut 
tered  : 

"Merriwell  is  my  hoodoo.  I  can't  do  a  thing  with  him 
in  the  game." 

"Keep  cool,"  warned  Leslie.  "Never  mind  what  hap 
pens  this  time.  We'll  get  at  him  again." 

Hans  Dunnerwust  managed  to  blunder  along  and  keep 
in  the  game  by  sheer  luck,  for  he  did  not  play  the  cards 
for  their  face  value  at  any  time.  Still  he  made  enough  to 
keep  on  his  feet  and  not  have  to  get  out  of  the  game. 

"Veil!"  Hans  finally  exclaimed,  as  he  tried  in  vain  to 
win,  "uf  I  don'd  do  petter  as  dot.  I  vill  suicide  go  und 
gommit  bretty  soon  alretty." 

"By  the  way,  Hans,"  said  Frank,  "do  you  know  that 


56  The  Haunted  Room. 

the  fellow  who  used  to  have  this  room  committed  sui 
cide  here?" 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !"  gurgled  the  Dutch  boy.  "You 
'don'd  say  dot !" 

"Yes,  I  do,  and  the  room  is  said  to  be  haunted  by  hii 
spook,  which  cannot  rest  in  its  grave." 

"Veil,  dot  vos  nice !     Oxcuse  me  while  I  haf  a  chill !" 

At  this  moment  a  hollow  groan  seemed  to  come  from 
beneath  the  chair  on  which  Hans  sat,  and  the  Dutch  lad 
gave  a  jump,  getting  on  his  feet  quickly,  and  peering 
under  the  chair,  his  face  growing  pale,  as  he  chattered : 

"Votvosdot,  ain'did?" 

Some  of  the  other  boys  were  not  a  little  alarmed,  for  all 
had  heard  it  distinctly. 

"It — it  actually  sounded  like  a  groan !"  said  Wat  Snell. 

"That's  what  it  did,"  agreed  George  Harris. 

"But  you  know  it  couldn't  have  been  anything  of  the 
sort,"  laughed  Frank,  "for  you  fellows  do  not  believe  in 
ghosts." 

''Who — who — who  said  anything  about  ghosts?" 
stammered  Snell. 

At  this  moment  another  groan,  louder  and  more  dismal 
than  the  first,  seemed  to  come  from  directly  beneath  the 
table. 

There  was  a  scrambling  among  the  toys,  as  they 
hastened  to  get  their  legs  from  beneath  that  table. 

"I  don'd  feel  very  veil  aroundt  der  bit  uf  mein  stom 
ach,"  gasped  Hans.  "I  pelief  I  vos  going  to  be  sick 
alretty  yet." 

One  of  the  boys  held  the  light,  while  they  all  looked 
under  the  table,  but  they  did  not  find  anything  there. 

"Now,  that  is  singular,"  commented  Harvey  Dare.  "If 
that  wasn't  a  groan,  I  never  heard  one  in  my  life." 

"And  a  real  ghostly  groan  at  that  I"  said  Leslie  Gage. 


The  Haunted  Room.  57 

"I  never  did  take  any  stock  in  this  rot  about  ghosts, 
but " 

"Beware,  young  man,  how  you  mock  at  the  spirits  of 
the  departed !" 

The  voice  seemed  to  come  from  one  of  the  alcove  bed 
rooms,  and  it  was  of  the  sort  to  make  the  hair  stand  on 
the  head  of  a  superstitious  person. 

"Oh,  dunder  und  blitzen !"  panted  Hans.  "Dot  vos  a 
sbook !  Uf  I  don't  ged  avay  oud  uf  here  righd  off,  I  peen 
gone  grazy !  I  don'd  vant  any  sbook  in  mine !" 

"It  is  some  fellow  playing  a  joke  on  us,"  said  Harvey 
Dare,  angrily.  "Some  one  has  concealed  himself  in  there. 
Bring  the  light,  fellows,  and  we  will  soon  find  out." 

He  started  for  the  alcove,  but  no  one  seemed  anxious 
to  take  the  light  and  follow  him.  After  a  moment,  how 
ever,  Frank  did  so. 

All  through  both  alcoves  Harvey  searched,  and  his 
face  was  rather  pale  when  he  and  Frank  returned  to  the 
table. 

"What  did  you  find?"  asked  Wat  Snell,  thickly. 

"Not  a  thing  but  dust,"  replied  Harvey.  "There 
hasn't  been  a  living  soul  in  either  of  those  bedrooms  since 
the  room  was  closed  after  the  suicide." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  the  hollow  voice.  "You  are 
right.  They  dare  not  come,  but  I  am  doomed  to  stay  here 
till  this  building  shall  crumble  and  decay." 

"Veil,  you  may  sday  till  der  cows  come  home !"  gurgled 
Hans ;  "but  I  don'd  peen  caught  in  here  any  more  bretty 
soon  righd  avay,  you  pet !"  and  he  made  a  break  for  the 
door. 

The  others  quickly  extinguished  the  light,  and  followed 
him. 

There  would  be  no  more  gatherings  in  that  room. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IN      THE     MESHES. 

Frank  Merriwell  fancied  he  had  hit  upon  a  scheme  to 
stop  the  card  games  from  which  he  could  not  remain 
away.  Being  a  skilled  ventriloquist,  he  was  the  author 
of  the  dismal  groans  and  the  mysterious  voice  that  had  so 
alarmed  the  boys. 

Bart  was  not  in  the  secret,  and  so  he  wondered,  when 
he  heard  Frank  chuckling  to  himself,  after  they  had  safely 
reached  their  room  and  were  getting  into  bed. 

For  several  days  the  "gang"  was  disconsolate,  having 
no  place  in  which  they  could  play  a  game  of  cards  with 
out  fear  of  detection  at  any  instant. 

Frank  Merriwell  seemed  restored  to  his  usual  jolly  self. 
He  laughed  and  joked,  and  did  not  seem  worried  over 
anything. 

But  the  "gang"  would  not  remain  long  without  a  place 
in  which  to  play  cards. 

One  day  Frank  received  an  invitation  to  "sit  into  a 
little  game"  that  evening. 

Snell  tendered  the  invitation. 

Merriwell's  face  clouded  instantly. 

"Why,  there  is  no  place  to  play,  is  there  ?" 

"Sure!"  was  the  reply.  "You  didn't  suppose  we'd  be 
knocked  out  so  easy,  did  you? 

"Where  do  you  play?" 


In  the  Meshes.  59 

"Come  along  with  Hodge  to-night,  and  he  will  show 
you.  You  have  been  there  before." 

But  Frank  did  not  come  along. 

Three  nights  he  knew  of  Bart  rising  and  stealing  out  of 
the  room.  Then  there  was  an  interval  of  two  nights,  dur 
ing  which  Bart,  plainly  too  much  used  up  to  stand  the 
strain,  or  else  out  of  money,  remained  in  his  bed. 

When  Hodge  arose  again,  and  prepared  to  go  out,  he 
heard  a  stir  in  Merriwell's  alcove. 

"Are  you  awake,  Frank  ?"  he  asked,  softly. 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "and  I  am  going  with  you." 

Bart  hesitated.  He  was  tempted  to  undress  and  re 
turn  to  bed,  but  he  had  received  his  money  from  home 
that  day  and,  having  lost  heavily  the  last  time  he  played, 
he  was  anxious  for  "satisfaction." 

"I'm  not  Merriwell's  guardian,"  he  thought.  "I  guess 
the  fellow  is  able  to  take  care  of  himself." 

So  he  told  Frank  to  dress  fully  for  going  out,  and  to 
take  his  shoes  in  his  hand. 

Together  they  crept  from  the  room,  slid  along  the  cor 
ridor,  watched  a  favorable  moment  to  get  past  the  sen 
tinel,  and  finally  found  their  way  into  a  room  where  the 
"gang"  was  waiting. 

There  was  much  whispered  satisfaction  when  Merri- 
well  was  known  to  be  with  Hodge. 

Then  the  window  was  softly  opened,  and  one  by  one 
the  boys  descended  the  fire-escape,  which  ran  past  that 
window.  The  last  one  out  closed  the  window,  having  ar 
ranged  it  so  it  could  be  readily  opened  from  the  outside. 

Behind  the  messhall  they  sat  down  on  the  ground  and 
pulled  on  their  shoes. 

It  was  a  cool,  starry  night. 

"I  rather  fancy  I  know  where  we  are  bound,"  said 
Frank. 


60  In  the  Meshes. 

"Where?"  asked  Bart. 

"To  the  old  boathouse,  down  the  cove." 

"Sure.     You  are  a  good  guesser,  old  man." 

Then  the  thought  came  to  Frank  that  it  would  be  a 
good  thing  for  Fardale  Academy  if  that  boathouse  should 
burn  to  the  ground.  It  was  there  plebes  generally  re 
ceived  their  first  hazing,  and  there  most  of  the  fights 
between  the  cadets  took  place. 

To  the  boathouse  they  went,  and  this  night  luck  ran 
against  Frank,  for  he  lost  heavily. 

"There,"  he  said,  as  he  and  Bart  were  returning  to 
gether,  "I  can  stay  away  from  the  game  now,  and  no  one 
will  have  a  right  to  accuse  me  of  meanness^  for  I  have 
dropped  more  than  I  made  at  both  of  the  other  games  I 
have  been  in/' 

"That's  right,"  assured  Bart,  "you  may  do  as  you  like 
now,  and  I'll  fight  the  fellow  that  dares  open  his  trap 
about  it." 

But  Frank  had  taken  the  false  step  that  leads  to  others, 
and  he  was  to  find  it  no  easy  thing  to  keep  away  from  the 
game  that  fascinated  him  so.  For  a  little  time  he  suc 
ceeded,  but  he  was  uneasy  and  in  a  bad  way  so  long  as 
he  knew  a  game  was  going  on.  'Night  after  night  he 
heard  Bart  dress  and  slip  out,  and  the  longing  to  accom 
pany  him  grew  and  grew  till  it  was  unbearable. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Merriwell  ?"  one  of  his  class 
mates  asked  of  another.  "He  was  making  right  along  at 
one  time,  and  we  all  thought  he  would  head  the  class,  but 
now  he  is  making  an  average  of  less  than  2.5." 

"Oh,  he  is  flighty,"  replied  the  other.  "Do  you  notice 
that  he  doesn't  seem  to  be  as  jolly  and  full  of  fun  as  he 
was  once." 

"I  believe  he  is  in  some  kind  of  trouble,"  declared  the 
first.  "He  doesn't  ever  get  a  max  lately." 


In  the  Meshes.  61 

By  way  of  explanation,  let  us  state,  a  "max"  was  the 
highest  mark  obtainable,  or  3 ;  2.9  or  2.8  was  considered 
first  class,  2.5  was  really  good,  2  was  fair,  and  below  that 
it  fell  off  rapidly  too,  which  meant  utter  failure. 

Frank  was,  indeed,  in  trouble.  He  found  it  impossible 
to  keep  away  from  the  poker  parties,  and  so,  one  night 
after  Bart  had  departed,  being  unable  to  sleep,  he  got  up 
and  followed  his  roommate  again. 

Gage  and  Snell  were  rejoiced,  for  they  saw  they  had 
Merriwell  fairly  within  the  meshes.  All  that  was  needed 
now  was  to  close  the  net  carefully  and  draw  it  tighter  and 
tighter  about  him,  till  there  was  no  possible  escape. 

This  trick  was  accomplished  with  consummate  skilL 
Frank's  luck  seemed  to  have  deserted  him,  but  at  first  his 
losings  were  just  heavy  enough  to  provoke  without  alarm 
ing  him.  Sometimes  he  would  win  a  little,  and  then  he 
would  fancy  his  luck  had  turned,  but  the  tide  soon  set  the 
other  way. 

Made  angry  by  his  petty  losses,  he  followed  the  game 
with  dogged  persistency.  'And  those  petty  losses  soon 
began  to  grow  larger  and  larger.  His  money  melted 
away  rapidly,  and  still  fortune  frowned  on  him. 

In  vain  Hodge  counseled  his  friend  to  drop  the  game 
and  stay  away.  Such  advice  was  now  wasted  on  Frank, 
and  it  made  him  angry. 

"It's  too  late !"  he  hotly  declared.  "I  am  going  to  see 
the  thing  through !" 

And  so  the  meshes  of  the  snare  closed  around  him. 


CHAPTER  X. 

DOWNWARD. 

In  vain  Gage  and  Snell  tried  to  get  hold  of  some 
I  O  U's  with  Frank  Merriwell's  name  on  them.  Frank's 
money  was  exhausted,  and  he  stopped  playing  suddenly. 
Gage  offered  to  loan  him  money,  but  he  had  not  forgotten 
the  past,  and  not  a  cent  of  Gage's  cash  would  he  touch. 

Then  Snell  tried  it,  but  was  no  more  successful. 

This  made  them  both  angry. 

"Confound  the  fellow!"  said  Gage,  fiercely.  "We've 
got  him  badly  tangled;  but  he  seems  to  have  taken  the 
alarm,  and  I'm  afraid  he  will  break  away." 

"We  must  not  let  him  do  so,"  said  Snell.  "If  we  lose 
our  fish  now,  we'll  never  land  him.w 

"What  can  be  done?" 

"That  is  for  us  to  study  out." 

And  so  they  set  about  plotting  and  trying  to  devise  still 
(Other  schemes  to  disgrace  Frank,  and  drive  him  from  the 
academy. 

In  the  meantime,  a  feeling  of  revulsion  had  seized 
Frank  Merriwell.  Of  a  sudden  he  had  perceived  whither 
he  was  drifting.  He  realized  what  false  steps  he  had 
already  taken,  and  he  was  heartily  ashamed  of  himself. 

Among  his  treasures  was  a  medal  of  honor  presented 
to  him  by  Congress  for  twice  saving  the  life  of  Inza 
Burrage,  a  pretty  girl  who  lived  in  Fardale,  and  whose 
brother,  Walter,  was  a  cadet  at  the  academy.  Once  he 


Downward.  63 

had  fought  a  mad  dog  with  no  weapon  but  a  clasp-knife, 
and  kept  the  creature  from  biting  Inza,  and  once  he  had 
saved  her  from  death  beneath  the  wheels  of  the  afternoon 
express,  which  flew  through  Fardale  village  without 
stopping. 

Coming  across  this  medal  where  he  kept  it  choicely 
deposited,  it  suddenly  brought  to  him  an  overwhelming 
feeling  of  self-abasement  and  shame. 

What  would  Inza  Burrage  think  of  him  if  she  knew  of 
his  weakness — knew  that  he  was  playing  cards  for  money, 
and  making  associates  of  such  fellows  as  Gage  and  Snell  ? 

It  was  true  that  she  did  not  know  either  Gage  or  Snell 
for  what  they  really  were  at  heart,  but  Frank  did,  and 
there  really  seemed  no  excuse  for  him. 

He  tried  to  excuse  himself  by  saying  he  had  been  led 
into  temptation  through  Hodge,  but,  in  another  instant 
he  felt  meaner  than  before. 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed,  Merriwell!"  he  told  him 
self.  "You  have  all  the  influence  in  the  world  over 
Hodge,  if  you  use  your  power  skillfully,  and,  instead  of 
trying  to  shoulder  the  blame  on  him,  you  should  be  dis 
gusted  with  yourself  for  making  no  attempt  to  save  him 
from  such  company  and  such  practices !" 

Then  he  thought  of  the  money  he  had  lost.  How  could 
he  stop  without  making  an  effort  to  win  it  back?  If  he 
could  have  one  good  streak  of  luck  and  win  enough  to 
make  himself  square,  he  would  stop. 

This  very  desire  to  "get  square  with  the  game"  has 
been  the  ruin  of  more  than  one  promising  youth. 

So  he  told  himself  over  and  over  that  he  would  stop 
as  soon  as  he  "got  square." 

Saturday  came  round.  Inza  Burrage  had  sent  him 
word  through  her  brother  that  she  would  visit  Belinda 


64  Downward. 

Snodd  that  afternoon,  and  he  might  see  her  there,  if  he 
cared  to  call. 

Belinda  Snodd  was  the  daughter  of  John  Snodd,  a 
rather  queer  old  fellow,  who  ran  an  odd  sort  of  boarding- 
house  for  summer  people  who  visited  the  Cove,  on  which 
Fardale  Academy  was  situated.  Snodd  each  year  boarded 
a  number  of  applicants  for  admission  to  the  academy 
until  they  had  prepared  themselves  for  examination  and 
been  accepted  or  turned  away.  Frank  had  boarded  there 
when  he  first  came  to  Fardale,  and  so  he  knew  the  family 
well. 

But  how  could  he  meet  Inza  that  afternoon?  He  was 
in  no  mood  to  meet  her.  She  had  regarded  him  as  a  hero 
— as  being  very  near  perfection.  If  she  knew  the 
truth 

"I  can't  do  it !"  Frank  muttered.  "Not  till  I  face  about 
squarely  can  I  see  her  again." 

But,  as  the  afternoon  came  round,  he  was  seized  by  a 
great  longing  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her,  at  least.  Me 
chanically  he  began  dressing,  as  if  he  were  going  to  call 
on  her. 

Hodge  was  reading  a  book.  He  flung  it  aside,  with  an 
impatient  exclamation  that  was  followed  by  a  yawn. 

"I'm  tired  of  that  old  thing!"  he  cried.  "I  am  tired  of 
everything !" 

"You  need  a  rest,  Bart,"  said  Frank.  "You  are  not 
getting  enough  sleep." 

"I  am  getting  as  much  as  you.  I  say,  Frank,  don't  you 
think  living  is  a  bore,  anyway  ?" 

"Not  when  a  fellow  lives  right." 

"Right  ?  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  Isn't  a  chap  to 
have  any  sport?" 

"Yes;  but  there  are  two  kinds  of  sport — so  called. 
One  is  healthy,  invigorating,  delightful,  like  baseball  and 


Downward.  65 

football,  for  instance.  The  other  is  fascinating,  injurious, 
debasing,  like  poker." 

Bart  stared  at  Frank  a  moment,  as  if  he  were  some 
what  puzzled,  and  then  said : 

"I  guess  you  are  right,  old  man.  I  hadn't  ever  thought 
of  it  just  that  way  before.  I'd  swear  off  and  try  to  keeg 
away  from  the  game,  if  I  wasn't  in  so  deep." 

"You  have  lost  quite  an  amount  lately." 

"Yes,  I  have  been  knifed  deep.  Gage  has  astounding 
luck." 

"Do  you  think  it  is  all  luck?" 

Bart  looked  surprised. 

"Why,  to  be  sure.    The  fellow  plays  a  square  game." 

"Why  should  he  ?  You  know,  as  well  as  I,  that  he  is 
not  square  by  nature." 

"That's  right ;  but  his  cards  are  cut  every  time,  and  he 
doesn't  know  enough  to  put  'em  up." 

"There  are  other  ways  of  cheating  besides  putting  the 
cards  up." 

"That's  true,  but  I  do  not  believe  Gage  is  on  that  lay. 
He  simply  has  beastly  big  luck." 

"Perhaps." 

"You  do  not  think  so?" 

"I  do  not  know.  You  will  remember  that  Gage  has  no 
particular  love  for  either  of  us,  and  we  have  both  lost 
heavily." 

"Do  you  mean  to  quit  playing?" 

"Possibly." 

Hodge  looked  doubtful,  for  he  now  understood  how 
strong  must  be  the  temptation  for  Merriwell  to  follow  the 
game. 

Frank  completed  dressing,  and  left  the  academy.  He 
turned  his  footsteps  in  the  direction  of  Snodd's,  but  still 


66  Downward. 

he  had  no  intention  of  going  there.  Keeping  under  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  he  passed  around  to  a  large  grove  in  the 
rear  of  Snodd's  buildings. 

It  was  early  October  now,  and  the  air  was  bracing  and 
exhilarating,  for  all  the  afternoon  was  mild.  The  trees 
.were  flaming  with  color,  and  the  leaves  had  begun  to  sift 
down.  In  the  grove  squirrels  romped  and  chattered. 

It  seemed  good  to  Frank  to  get  away  alone  under  the 
shadow  of  the  trees.  New  strength  and  new  life  came  to 
him,  and  new  resolves  and  determinations  formed  them 
selves  unsought  and  unbidden  in  his  mind.  He  felt  that 
it  was  a  privilege  and  a  blessing  to  be  alive. 

Had  he  felt  free  to  meet  Inza  then,  he  would  have  been 
quite  happy. 

He  flung  himself  down  beneath  a  great  tree  at  the  edge 
of  the  grove,  where  he  could  see  Snodd's  buildings.  For 
a  long  time  he  lay  there,  thinking  and  dreaming. 

Suddenly  he  started  up.  Three  figures  were  leaving 
the  buildings  and  coming  toward  the  grove.  He  saw 
they  were  three  girls,  and  he  instantly  recognized  one  of 
them  as  Inza.  The  others  were  Belinda  Snodd  and  one 
of  the  village  girls,  with  whom  Frank  was  slightly  ac 
quainted,  Mabel  Blossom,  generally  known  as  May 
Blossom. 

"They  are  coming  here!"  exclaimed  Frank.  "They 
must  not  see  me !" 

He  arose  hastily,  and  scurried  away  into  the  grove,  and 
he  did  not  stop  till  he  had  reached  the  shore.  There  he 
sat  down  amid  some  rocks,  and  remained  a  long  time,  as 
it  seemed  to  him. 

But  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  steal  back  and 
see  if  the  girls  were  still  in  the  grove.  He  finally  arose 
and  did  so. 


Downward.  67 

As  he  passed  through  the  grove  and  came  out  near  the 
old  picnic-ground,  he  suddenly  halted  and  stepped  behind 
a  tree,  for  he  had  come  upon  two  persons  in  earnest  con* 
versation. 

They  were  Inza  Burrage  and  Leslie  Gage ! 


CHAPTER  XI. 

TRUSTING   AND   TRUE. 
/ 

Instantly  a  surge  of  jealousy  swept  over  Frank  Merri- 
well.  How  did  it  come  about  that  Gage  had  met  Inza 
there?  Was  it  by  appointment? 

Belinda  Snodd  and  May  Blossom  were  in  plain  view  a 
short  distance  away,  and  Wat  Snell  was  trying  to  make 
himself  agreeable  to  them. 

Without  intending  to  eavesdrop,  Frank  paused  there  a 
moment,  unconsciously  listening.  He  heard  Inza  say: 

"The  others  cannot  hear  you  now,  Mr.  Gage,  so  you 
can  tell  me  the  important  thing  you  have  to  reveal." 

"I  don't  know  as  you  will  be  pleased  to  hear  it,"  said 
Gage,  with  an  attempt  at  great  apparent  sincerity,  "for  it 
is  about  your  friend,  Frank  Merriwell,  and  you  will  not 
like  to  hear  anything  unpleasant  of  him." 

Inza  drew  herself  up  proudly. 

"You  cannot  tell  me  anything  of  Mr.  Merriwell  that 
will  make  me  think  less  of  him,"  she  declared,  her  dark 
eyes  flashing. 

That  was  enough  to  chain  Frank  to  the  spot ;  he  could 
not  have  slipped  away  then  had  he  desired  to  do  so. 

"Perhaps  not,"  said  Gage,  with  a  significant  smile,  "but 
I  think  I  can." 

"How  has  Frank  'Merriwell  ever  injured  you  that  you 
should  be  slandering  him  behind  his  back  ?" 

For  an  instant  this  staggered  Leslie,  like  a  blow  in  the 
face,  but  he  swiftly  recovered. 


Trusting  and  True.  69 

"Oh,  Merriwell  has  never  injured  me,  and  I  haven't 
the  least  thing  in  the  world  against  him,"  he  said, 
smoothly ;  "but  I  do  take  an  interest  in  you,  and  it  makes 
me  sorry  to  see  you  so  absorbed  in  a  fellow  utterly  un 
worthy  of  your  friendship — utterly  unworthy  to  be  spoken 
to  or  even  noticed  by  you." 

Gage  spoke  rapidly,  for  he  saw  she  was  eager  to  in 
terrupt  him.  Her  face  grew  pale,  and  she  stamp'ed  one 
small  foot  angrily  on  the  ground,  as  she  flung  back : 

"This  is  not  the  first  time  you  have  tried  to  injure  him, 
and  you  should  be  ashamed!  Why,  he  saved  you  from 
the  Eagle's  Ledge,  after  you  had  fallen  over  Black 
Bluff." 

"Which  was  exactly  what  any  fellow  would  have  done 
for  another  under  similar  circumstances.  That  is  not  to 
his  credit.  I  beg  you  to  listen.  It  has  taken  me  some 
time  to  make  up  my  mind  to  tell  you  the  truth — to  warn 
you,  and  now  I  must.  To  begin  with,  Merriwell  comes  of 
an  uncertain  family,  although,  I  believe,  he  has  an  uncle 
who  has  some  money,  and  that  uncle  is  paying  the  fel 
low's  way  through  Fardale  Academy." 

"What  do  I  care  about  his  family,  so  long  as  I  know 
him  to  be  a  noble  fellow !  You  forget,  sir,  that  he  has 
twice  saved  my  life !" 

"No,  I  have  not  forgotten.  I  do  not  blame  you  for 
being  grateful,  but  you  must  know  the  whole  truth  about 
him.  Frank  Merriwell  is  a  gambler — he  plays  cards  for 
money." 

"I  don't  believe  it!"  were  the  words  that  came  from 
Inza's  lips,  and  sent  a  thrill  of  shame  through  the  lad  be 
hind  the  tree. 

"But  it  is  true,  and  I  can  prove  it.  I  will  prove  it,  too ! 
If  I  prove  it  to  your  satisfaction,  Miss  Burrage,  will  you 


yo  Trusting  and  True. 

cut  the  fellow,  and  have  nothing  to  do  with  him  in  the 
future?" 

Frank  leaned  forward,  holding  his  breath,  eager  to 
hear  the  answer. 

It  came  promptly  and  decisively : 

"No!" 

Gage  caught  his  breath. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  you  will  still  be  friends  with  a 
regular  gambler  like  Merriwell?"  he  asked. 

"I  do  not  believe  Frank  Merriwell  is  a  gambler — you 
can  never  make  me  believe  it !" 

"But  I  will  bring  proof." 

"Even  then  I  will  believe  your  proof  is  hatched  up 
against  him." 

This  made  Gage  lose  his  head. 

"Why,  you  are  awfully  stuck  on  that  cad!"  he  cried. 
"You  are  altogether  too  fine  a  girl  for  him !" 

He  suddenly  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  tried  to  em 
brace  her.  She  struggled,  and  cried  out  for  help. 

Like  a  panther,  Frank  Merriwell  bounded  from  behind 
the  tree.  He  caught  Gage  by  the  collar,  and  tore  Inza 
from  his  grasp.  Then  Frank's  fist  shot  out,  landing  with 
a  sharp  spat  right  between  Leslie's  eyes.  A  second  later 
Gage  came  in  violent  contact  with  the  ground. 

"Frank !"  exclaimed  Inza,  as  he  supported  her. 

Wat  Snell  and  the  two  girls  with  whom  he  had  been 
talking  had  witnessed  the  entire  affair.  They  now  came 
hurrying  toward  the  spot. 

"The  miserable  cur !"  cried  Frank.    "I  will " 

"Don't  touch  him  again !"  urged  Inza.  "Oh,  you  struck 
him  an  awful  blow !" 

In  truth  Frank  had  given  Gage  a  heavy  blow,  and  it 
some  seconds  before  the  fellow  made  a  move.  Snell 


Trusting  and  True.  71 

helped  him  sit  up.  Leslie  put  his  hand  to  his  head,  and 
stared  in  a  dazed  way  at  Frank. 

"Are  you  hurt  much,  old  man?"  asked  Wat,  sympa- 
thizingly. 

"I  guess  not,"  mumbled  Gage.  "What  did  he  strike 
me  with  ?" 

His  fist" 

"Why,  it  seemed  like  a  rock !" 

Wat  helped  him  to  his  feet,  and  the  two  stood  glaring 
at  Frank,  who  regarded  them  with  supreme  scorn. 

"Shall  we  sail  in  and  do  him  up?"  asked  Wat,  ex 
citedly. 

"Yes,"  said  Leslie;  "we  will  give  him  a  good  drub- 
bing." 

Instantly  Frank  placed  Inza  to  one  side,  and  boldly; 
faced  the  two  young  rascals. 

"I  don't  believe  you  both  can  whip  me,  the  way  I  feel 
just  now,"  he  cried.  "I  think  I  can  give  you  more  fight 
than  you  want,  so  just  sail  right  in." 

They  hesitated.  There  was  something  about  Merri- 
well's  look  and  bearing  that  seemed  to  warn  them  against 
attacking  him.  To  Wat  Snell  it  suddenly  seemed  quite 
probable  that  Frank  would  prove  more  than  a  match  for 
both  of  them. 

"There  are  ladies  present,"  he  said,  hastily.  "We  can 
not  fight  in  the  presence  of  ladies." 

"Very  thoughtful !"  came  scornfully  from  Frank's  lips. 
"Possibly  the  ladies  will  step  aside  long  enough  for  us  to 
settle  this  little  matter." 

"Oh,  don't  fight  with  them,  Frank!"  pleaded  Inza. 
"There  are  two  of  them,  and " 

"That  is  not  enough.  I  am  good  for  two  such  sneak 
ing  scoundrels  as  they  are !  Don't  worry  about  me.*' 

"Hear  the  blowhard !"  sneered  Snell. 


72  Trusting  and  True. 

Frank  seemed  on  the  point  of  springing  toward  him, 
and  Wat  hastily  dodged  behind  Leslie,  saying : 

"Give  it  to  him,  Les,  if  he  wants  to  fight !" 

This  showed  how  much  Gage  could  depend  on  Snell  in 
a  scrimmage,  and  the  former  instantly  decided  that  it 
was  not  best  to  try  to  get  revenge  on  Merriwell  just  then. 

"There  will  be  no  fighting  here,"  he  said,  loftily,  "but 
I  shall  not  forget  Merriwell's  blow,  and  he  shall  pay 
dearly  for  it.  I  will  make  him  wish  he  had  not  been  so 
free  with  his  fist." 

"As  for  you,  Miss  Spitfire,"  turning  to  Inza,  "you 
must  feel  proud  to  have  a  friend  in  a  fellow  of  his  class  \ 
Do  not  forget  what  I  told  you  about  him  and " 

"Silence,  sir!"  cried  Inza,  contemptuously.  "You  had 
better  go  away  at  once.  I  wouldn't  believe  such  a  con 
temptible  creature  as  you  under  any  circumstances !" 

"All  right,  all  right,"  growled  Gage,  scowling  blackly. 
"You  will  find  out  in  time  that  I  told  the  truth.  This  is 
not  the  end  of  this  matter.  Come,  Wat,  let's  go.  If  I 
stay  any  longer,  I'll  have  to  whip  Merriwell  before  all  of 
the  present  company." 

So  the  delectable  pair  moved  away  together,  and  Gage's 
revengeful  heart  was  made  still  more  bitter  by  the  ring 
ing  laugh  of  scorn  Inza  Burrage  sent  after  them. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  SNARE  IS  BROKEN. 

When  Frank  parted  from  Inza  that  afternoon,  he  had 
made  a  free  and  full  confession  of  his  fault.  She  had 
listened  with  pained  surprise,  almost  with  incredulity,  but 
she  had  not  shown  the  scorn  that  Frank  felt  he  fully  de 
served.  However,  she  had  exacted  a  pledge,  which  he 
had  freely  given,  and,  returning  to  the  academy,  he  felt 
that  he  was  himself  once  more.  His  step  was  elastic, 
his  heart  was  light,  and  he  whistled  a  lively  strain. 

That  evening  he  had  a  long  talk  with  Bart. 

"Come,  Bartley,"  urged  Frank,  "drop  this  card-playing, 
and  give  attention  to  your  studies." 

Bart  was  in  a  bad  mood,  as  he  had  been  much  of  the 
time  lately,  and  he  laughed  harshly. 

"You're  a  fine  fellow  to  give  that  sort  of  advice  when 
you  cannot  keep  away  from  the  game  yourself !"  he  said. 

"But  I  can  keep  away,"  came  quietly  and  decidedly; 
from  Frank's  lips. 

"Prove  it." 

"I  will.  I  am  not  going  to  play  any  more.  I  have 
been  a  fool,  and  I  am  ashamed  of  it." 

"That  is  easy  enough  to  say,  but •  Well,  we  will 

see  what  we  will  see." 

"You  doubt  my  ability  to  keep  away  from  the  game?" 

"Haven't  I  reason  to  do  so?7* 

"You  surely  have.    But  look  here,  Bart ;  you  know  as 


74  The  Snare  is  Broken. 

well  as  I  the  kind  of  fellows  we  are  running  with  whev 
we  play  cards  with  that  gang.  Neither  you  nor  I  care  t» 
call  Gage  and  Snell  our  particular  friends." 

"That's  right." 

"And  Harris  is  a  kind  of  uncertain  fellow — neither  one 
thing  nor  another." 

"Sure." 

"Sam  Winslow  hasn't  enough  stamina  to  resist  tempta 
tion  of  any  sort." 

"Goon." 

"Harvey  Dare  is  a  pretty  decent  chap,  but  he  doesn't 
care  a  rap  what  people  think  or  say  of  him." 

"Well?" 

"Hans  Dunnerwust  has  been  inveigled  into  the  game, 
and  I  am  going  to  do  my  best  to  make  him  break  away." 

Bart  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"Go  ahead,  Frank,"  he  said,  "and  I  hope  you  may  suc 
ceed  in  your  missionary  work.  You  didn't  name  my 
failings,  but  I  have  them,  or  they  have  me,  for  I  can't 
break  away  from  them." 

"You  can  if  you  will  try.  Make  a  desperate  effort, 
Bart.  Think  how  differently  you  are  situated  than  I, 
who  was  born  with  a  passion  for  gambling." 

Bart  rose  impatiently. 

"Drop  it,  old  man,"  he  growled.  "I've  lost  too  much 
to  knock  off  now.  I  am  going  to  play  to-night." 

"To-night?    Why,  it  is  Saturday  night!" 

"Yes." 

"If  you  begin  playing,  you  will  not  stop  before  Sunday 
comes  in." 

"Perhaps  not." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  are  going  to  play  om 
Sunday?" 
"The  better  the  day,  the  better  the  deed,"  mocked  Bart. 


The  Snare  is  Broken.  75 

Frank  said  no  more^  but  he  formed  a  firm  resolution. 
He  would  find  a  way  to  save  his  roommate  and  break  up 
the  card  game.  Gage  and  Snell  were  welcome  to  all  they 
had  won  off  him,  but  he  would  bring  their  career  to  an 
end. 

How  was  he  to  do  it? 

Surely  he  could  not  report  them,  for  that  would  place 
him  beneath  a  ban  among  the  cadets. 

He  studied  over  the  problem. 

That  night,  when  Hodge  arose  to  slip  away,  Frank  got 
up  also,  and  began  to  dress.  Bartley  heard  him,  and  was 
surprised. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Frank?"  he  whispered. 

"With  you,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

"But  I  thought " 

Hodge  stopped;  he  would  not  say  what  he  thought. 
But  he  told  himself  that  he  had  known  all  along  that 
Frank  could  not  keep  away. 

They  got  out  of  the  academy,  and  made  their  way  to 
the  old  boathouse,  where  the  company  was  already  as 
sembled. 

Gage  and  Snell  were  there,  but  neither  of  them  spoke 
to  Frank. 

Bart  sat  into  the  game  immediately,  but,  to  the  gen 
eral  surprise,  Frank  declined. 

"I  am  short,  and  I  don't  feel  like  playing  to-night,"  he 
said.  "I've  got  a  book  I  want  to  read,  and  it  wasn't  pos 
sible  for  me  to  have  a  light  in  quarters,  so  I  came  along." 

He  declined  all  offers  of  money,  and  sat  down  to  read 
the  book.  He  turned  his  back  to  the  table,  so  the  light 
fell  on  the  pages  from  over  his  shoulder,  and  in  a  short 
time  he  seemed  too  much  absorbed  in  the  book  to  observe 
anything  that  was  going  on. 

The  game  became  very  warm.     It  was  without  limit, 


76  The  Snare  is  Broken. 

and  Hodge  lost  from  the  first.  Both  Gage  and  Snell 
were  winning  steadily. 

Still  Merriwell  seemed  to  read  on  calmly.  But  he  was 
not  reading  a  great  deal.  In  the  palm  of  one  hand  he 
had  a  small  mirror  concealed.  By  the  aid  of  this  mirror, 
he  was  watching  the  movements  of  Gage  and  Snell. 

And  he  was  making  some  very  interesting  discoveries ! 

At  length  there  came  a  large  pot.  Hodge  and  Gage 
stayed  in  and  raised  till  every  one  else  fell  out.  Hodge 
took  one  card ;  Gage,  who  was  dealing,  took  two. 

Then  there  was  betting  such  as  had  never  before  been 
known  in  that  old  boathouse. 

Hodge's  face  was  pale,  and  he  refused  to  call,  for  he  be 
lieved  his  time  to  get  square  had  come.  He  put  in  his 
"paper"  for  more  than  fifty  dollars,  after  his  money  was 
exhausted. 

Finally  the  game  came  to  an  end,  and  Gage  proclaimed 
himself  the  winner. 

He  started  to  take  the  money  lying  on  the  table..  Like 
a  leaping  tiger,  Frank  Merriwell  came  out  of  his  chair, 
whirled,  thrust  Leslie's  hands  aside,  and  pushed  the 
money  toward  Bart. 

"Not  this  evening,  Mr.  Gage!"  he  said.  "I  am  onto 
your  little  game,  and  it  won't  work  any  more  with  this 
crowd !" 

The  boys  sprang  to  their  feet. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Gage,  hoarsely,  his  face 
very  pale. 

"I  mean  that  you  are  a  sneak  and  a  cheat !"  said  Frank, 
deliberately.  "I  mean  that  you  are  too  mean  and  con 
temptible  for  any  honest  fellow  in  this  academy  to  ever 
have  anything  to  do  with !  I  mean  that  you  have  deliber 
ately  robbed  your  companions  by  means  of  crooked  appli- 


The  Snare  is  Broken.  77 

ances  made  for  dishonest  gamblers!  That  is  exactly 
what  I  mean,  Mr.  Gage." 

Leslie  gasped,  and  managed  to  say  : 

"Be  careful!  You  will  have  to  prove  every  word, 
or " 

"I  will  prove  it !  I  have  been  watching  you,  and  I  have 
seen  you  repeatedly  make  the  pass  that  restores  cut  cards 
to  their  original  position.  I  have  seen  you  hold  back  at 
least  three  of  the  top  cards  in  dealing,  and  give  them  to 
Snell  or  take  them  yourself.  Those  cards  will  be  found 
to  be  skillfully  marked,  and  that  pack  is  short.  Boys, 
count  those  cards !" 

The  cards  were  counted,  and  the  pack  proved  to  be  four 
cards  short. 

"Here  is  one  of  the  gambler's  appliances  of  which  I 
spoke,"  said  Frank,  thrusting  his  hand  under  Leslie's  side 
of  the  table  and  wrenching  away  something.  "It  is  a 
table  hold-out,  and  it  contains  the  four  missing  cards. 
This  is  the  kind  of  a  fellow  you  are  playing  cards  with, 
gentlemen." 

The  faces  of  the  boys  were  black  with  anger,  Wat  Snell 
being  excepted.  Seeing  his  opportunity,  Snell  quickly 
slipped  away,  and  before  he  could  be  stopped,  had  bolted 
from  the  boathouse. 

Gage  took  advantage  of  the  excitement  to  make  a  break 
for  liberty,  and  he,  too,  got  away. 

"What  a  howling  shame!"  said  Harvey  Dare,  in  dis 
gust.  "We'd  tar  and  feather  them  both.  Anyway, 
they'll  have  to  get  out  of  the  academy." 

The  boys  who  had  put  money  into  the  game  were  given 
what  they  had  invested.  The  rest  was  turned  over  to 
Hodge.  It  made  his  losing  nearly  square. 

"This  settles  me,"  he  said,  grimly.  "I  am  done  play 
ing.  No  more  of  this  business  for  me." 


78  The  Snare  is  Broken. 

"Stick  to  that,  and  you  will  be  all  right,"  said  Frank 
Merriweir,  in  a  low  tone. 


Leslie  Gage  knew  what  must  follow.  The  story  was 
bound  to  spread  among  the  cadets,  and  he  would  find  him 
self  scorned  and  shunned.  He  immediately  ran  away, 
and  it  was  reported  that  he  had  gone  to  sea. 

Wat  Snell  had  not  the  nerve  to  run  away,  but  he  found 
himself  the  most  unpopular  fellow  at  the  academy, 
shunned  by  the  cadets  generally,  and  regarded  with  con 
tempt. 

The  exposure  of  Gage's  crookedness  broke  up  the  poker 
parties  for  that  season,  at  least;  and  Frank  was  happy, 
for  he  had  saved  himself  and  rescued  Hodge  and  Hans 
Dunnerwust. 

But  he  was  happiest  in  receiving  the  approbation  of 
Inza  Burrage,  who  learned,  through  her  brother,  what 
Frank  had  done. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE  "CENTIPEDE"  JOKE. 

'"Sh!" 

"What's  up?" 

"There's  a  carmine  haze  on  the  moon." 

"That's  clear  as  mud!     What's  the  racket?" 

"You  room  next  to  Mulloy  and  Dunnerwust  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  you  will  hear  the  racket  just  about  the  time  taps 
sound." 

"But  I  want  to  know  what's  up,"  persisted  the  second 
speaker,  whose  curiosity  was  aroused.  "Has  somebody 
put  up  a  job  on  those  two  marks,  Mulloy  and  his  Dutch 
chum?" 

"You've  guessed  it." 

"Who?" 

"Guess  again." 

"Merriwell." 

"Right.     Take  your  place  at  the  head  of  the  class." 

This  hasty  and  guarded  conversation  was  carried  on  be 
tween  two  plebe  cadets  who  had  met  in  a  corridor  of  the 
academy  "cockloft."  The  first  speaker  was  a  jolly-faced 
little  fellow,  whose  name  was  Sammy  Smiles,  and  whose 
companions  had  failed  to  invent  a  nickname  for  him  that 
fitted  as  well  as  his  real  name — Smiles. 

The  other  boy's  name  was  also  Samuel,  or  the  first  part 
of  his  name  was  Samuel ;  but  the  cadets  declined  to  have 


8o  The  "Centipede"  Joke. 

two  Sams  among  the  plebes,  and  so  Samuel  Winslow  had 
gradually  come  to  be  known  as  "Poke." 

"What's  Merriwell  up  to  now  ?"  asked  Poke,  a  look  of 
delighted  suspense  on  his  face.  "He's  making  things 
rather  lively  round  here  lately." 

"You  bet!"  grinned  Sammy  Smiles.  "There's  more 
fun  in  him  than  there  is  in  a  barrel  of  monkeys." 

"But  what's  he  up  to  now?"  reiterated  Winslow. 
"Don't  keep  a  fellow  in  suspense !" 

"He  smuggled  in  a  basket  of  crawfish." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  you  don't  suppose  he  got  'em  to  eat,  do  you  ?" 

"  'Course  not.  Is  he  going  to  make  the  Dutchman  eat 
them?" 

"No,  but  they  may  take  a  few  bites  out  of  the 
Dutchman." 

"You  don't  mean " 

"He's  put  the  crawfish  into  Dunnerwust's  and  Mulloy's 
beds." 

"Jeewhiz!" 

Poke  clapped  a  hand  over  his  mouth,  and  looked  round 
hastily.  Then  he  asked : 

"How  could  he  do  it?  Beds  ain't  made  up  till  after 
tattoo,  and  he  wouldn't  have  time  to " 

"Tattoo  sounded  fifteen  minutes  ago.  It  doesn't  take 
Mulloy  more  than  two  minutes  to  make  up  his  beds. 
Hans  is  slower,  but  I  hustled  'em  both  up  to-night.  I 
dodged  into  their  room  the  instant  tattoo  sounded,  and 
told  'em  Gray  wanted  'em  both  to  come  to  his  room,  but 
they  mustn't  come  till  after  their  beds  were  made,  for 
they  might  stay  till  it  was  too  late  to  make  the  beds  be 
fore  taps.  They  both  hustled  up  the  beds,  and  then 
skipped  over  to  see  Gray.  iMerriwell  was  watching,  and 
he  didn't  lose  more  than  an  hour  getting  that  basket  of 


The  ''Centipede"  Joke.  81 

crawfish  into  their  room,  and  stowing  the  lively  little 
birds  in  the  beds.  Oh,  my !  won't  there  be  a  howl  when 
they  yank  themselves  into  bed !" 

Sammy  Smiles  doubled  up  with  suppressed  laughter. 
He  was  convulsed  at  the  thought  of  what  would  happen 
when  the  Dutch  boy  and  the  Irish  lad  hastily  jumped  into 
their  beds. 

"Merriwell  takes  the  cake,"  Poke  declared,  with  a 
chuckle.  "He's  been  on  a  regular  frolic  for  the  last  week, 
and  he  can  invent  more  kinds  of  fun  than  any  fellow  liv 
ing — besides  himself." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Sammy.  "Frank  is  a  dandy! 
Things  would  be  rather  dull  here  this  winter  if  it  wasn't 
for  him." 

"Well,  he'll  never  let  them  get  dull,  and  I  believe  he  is 
the  best  fellow  that  ever  lived !" 

"Right  again,"  nodded  the  other  lad,  with  a  moment  of 
seriousness.  "Merriwell  is  the  prince  of  good  fellows, 
and  there's  not  a  white  man  in  the  academy  who  wouldn't 
fight  for  him.  I  know  some  fellows  are  down  on  him,  but 
that's  pure  jealousy.  They're  sore  because  he  has  be 
come  so  popular.  I  don't  believe  he  cares  much." 

"If  he  wouldn't  stick  up  for  Hodge  the  way  he 
does " 

"That  shows  his  loyalty.  I  can't  see  what  he  finds  to 
admire  in  Hodge,  though  the  fellow  can  fight  and  play 
ball.  He  and  Frank  do  not  seem  very  well  matched  for 
roommates.  I  don't  see  how  Merriwell  can  keep  from 
working  jokes  on  Hodge  all  the  time.  Jingoes!  but 
wouldn't  I  laugh  if  he  had  put  some  of  those  crawfish  in 
Hodge's  bed !" 

This  fancy  convulsed  Sammy  again,  and,  just  then, 
Poke  hissed : 

"  'Sh  I     Somebody's  coming !     Skip !" 


82  The  "Centipede"  Joke. 

Both  made  haste  to  get  into  their  rooms,  and,  as  Sammy 
roomed  with  Ned  Gray,  he  found  Barney  Mulloy  and 
Hans  Dunnerwust  being  entertained  there.  Ned  was  tell 
ing  them  stories,  and  pretending  to  be  greatly  absorbed  in 
their  society.  As  Sammy  slipped  in,  with  the  inevitable 
grin  on  his  face,  although  he  was  doing  his  best  to  sup 
press  it,  Ned  looked  up  and  asked : 

"How's  the  weather  outside?" 

"It  is  settled,"  replied  Sammy,  with  a  meaning  wink. 

"Do  you  think  it  will  be  a  cold  night  ?" 

"It  will  be  for  some  folks." 

"When  the  weather  is  cold  down  East,  they  call  it 
nipping." 

"Well,  it  will  be  nipping  to-night  for  some  people." 

"In  that  case,  somebody  will  have  to  be  stirring." 

"That's  right." 

"Yaw,"  said  Hans,  with  a  lazy  yawn,  "I  pet  me  your 
life  some  folks  peen  plame  fools  enough  to  peen  sdirring 
to-nighd.  Dot  makes  me  dired.  Vy  in  dunder  don'd 
dey  gid  in  dere  peds  und  sday  dere,  ain'd  id  ?" 

"Oh,  some  people  don't  know  enough  for  that."  said 
Ned  Gray.  "And  then  there  are  people  who  are  afraid  to 
go  to  bed  at  this  season  of  the  year." 

"Vot  vos  dot?    Afrait  uf  vot?" 

"Centipedes." 

"Vot  vos  cendibedes  ?" 

"They  are  a  creature  with  a  poisonous  bite,  and  they 
are  all  sizes  from  the  bigness  of  a  pea  to  one  as  large  as 
your  hand." 

"Oh,  phvrat  are  yez  givin'  av  us !"  cried  Barney  Mulloy, 
derisively.  "Is  it  idiots  or  fools  ye  take  us  fer,  Oi 
dunno  ?" 

"Oh,  I  am  telling  you  the  sober  truth,"  declared  Ned, 
with  the  utmost  seriousness,  while  Sammy  Smiles  got  be- 


The  '  'Centipede"  Joke.  83 

hind  the  visitors  and  stuffed  his  handkerchief  into  his, 
mouth  to  keep  from  shrieking  with  laughter.  "The  cen 
tipedes  of  tropical  countries  are  smaller  than  our  regular 
winter  centipedes,  which  are  sometimes  as  large  as  a 
man's  hand.  Their  bite  is  deadly  poison." 

"Dunder  und  blitzens !"  gasped  Hans.  "I  don'd  tole 
you  dot!" 

"Get  away  wid  yer  blarney!"  exclaimed  Barney,  dis- 
believingly.  "Pwhat  do  yez  take  us  fer,  Oi  warnt  to 
know  ?  It's  nivver  a  bit  do  ye  shtuff  sich  a  yarrun  down 
aour  throats,  me  b'y." 

"You  are  not  compelled  to  believe  it." 

"Cintipades  in  th'  winter !"  snorted  the  Irish  lad.  "Thot 
bates  th'  band !" 

"Well,  you  may  think  what  you  like,  but  you  may  see 
some  of  our  winter  centipedes  some  time,  and  then  it  is 
possible  you  will  feel  that  you  owe  me  an  apology." 

"Vot  does  cendibedes  look  like,  ain't  it?" 

"They  have  long,  leg-like  claws,  and  are  covered  with 
hard  shells." 

"Und  dey  pite?" 

"Well,  I  should  say  so." 

"Put,  vy  vos  some  beoples  afrait  dose  cendibedes  uf  to 
go  to  ped  ?  You  tole  me  dot." 

"Well,  these  winter  centipedes  are  great  creatures  to 
seek  warm  corners,  and  so  they  get  into  beds." 

Sammy  Smiles  was  ready  to  roll  on  the  floor.  He 
could  not  keep  his  laughter  bottled  up,  and  it  burst  forth 
in  a  gurgle,  which  he  quickly  changed  to  a  most  dis 
tressing  cough. 

"Wan  thing  is  sure,"  said  Barney ;  "nivver  a  cintipade 
is  loikely  to  get  inther  our  beds,  fer  we  make  'em  up  ache 
noight,  so  we'd  see  th'  craythers  if  they  wur  there." 

"I  believe  one  of  them  has  never  been  seen  in  the  acad- 


84  The  "Centipede"  Joke. 

emy,"  came  seriously  from  Ned's  lips.  "The  strict  dis 
cipline  of  the  institution  is  too  much  for  them,  and  they 
keep  away." 

Barney  grinned. 

"Thot's  all  roight,  me  b'y.  Some  doay  Oi'll  tell  yez 
about  th'  big  shnakes  we  hiv  in  Oireland.  Oi  hivn't  toime 
to-night." 

"Und  I  vill  dell  you  apoud  der  big  Injuns  vot  dere  vos 
der  Rhine  on,  in  Shermany,"  said  Hans.  "Maype  you 
haf  heardt  uf  dose  poem  enditled  'Big  Injun  on  der 
Rhine,'  ain'd  id  ?" 

"Oh,  well,  that's  all  right !"  said  Ned,  with  a  wave  of 
his  hand,  as  if  he  was  not  quite  pleased. 

Then  he  looked  at  his  watch,  and  exclaimed : 

"Great  Scott !  we've  got  but  one  minute  left  in  which  to 
undress  and  get  into  bed  before  taps !" 

He  leaped  up  and  began  undressing,  and,  with  exclama 
tions  of  alarm,  the  Irish  lad  and  the  Dutch  boy  hustled 
from  the  room,  losing  no  time  about  getting  into  their 
own  and  undressing. 

"Did  Merriwell  fix  it  ?"  asked  Ned,  of  Sammy. 

"You  bet !"  was  the  reply.  "Extinguish  the  flicker,  and 
wait  for  the  general  war-dance.  It  will  take  place  in  a 
very  few  seconds." 

So  they  extinguished  the  light,  and  awaited  the  out 
burst  that  must  soon  come. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

LIVELY  TIMES. 

Barney  and  Hans  dashed  into  their  room,  and  tore 
themselves  out  of  their  clothes,  which,  however,  they  took 
care  to  hang  in  order  on  the  pegs  placed  along  the  parti 
tion  that  divided  one  end  of  the  room  into  two  alcoves. 

Long  practice  enabled  them  to  undress  with  great 
swiftness. 

By  the  time  taps  began  to  sound  they  were  ready  to 
jump  into  their  beds. 

Barney  quickly  extinguished  the  light,  but  Hans  lost  no 
time  in  getting  under  the  blankets,  while  the  Irish  lad 
made  a  leap  to  do  so. 

Then  came  a  cry  of  astonishment  and  fear  from  Hans. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !"  exclaimed  the  Dutch  boy. 
" Vot  dot  vos  I  touch  me  to,  ain'd  id  ?" 

"Shut  up!"  growled  Barney.  "Bad  cess  to  yez!  do 
yez  phwant  th'  officer  av  th'  guarrud  doon  on  us !  Kape 
shtill,  ur " 

"Wa-ow!"  howled  Hans,  uttering  a  wild  shriek  of 
pain  and  terror.  "I  vos  caught  in  der  ped  my  leg  by! 
Dunder  und  blitzens !  I  vos  bit  mit  der  toe  on !" 

"Begorra !  ye  hiv  gone  crazy,  ye  son  av  a  Dutch  chaze- 
maker!  Kape  shtill  thot  howling  ur " 

Then  Barney's  tone  suddenly  changed,  and  he  let  out  a 
yell  that  would  have  awakened  Rip  Van  Winkle  from  his 
long  nap. 


86  Lively  Times. 

"Saints  defind  me!  I'm  bitten  in  siventane  different 
places  intoirely !  Wurra !  wurra !  Musha !  musha !  Th' 
bed  is  full  av  crawling  crathers !" 

"Cendibedes !"  howled  Hans. 

"Cintipades !"  shrieked  Barney. 

Out  of  the  beds  they  scrambled  in  hot  haste,  and  to 
each  one  six  or  eight  of  the  crawfish  were  clinging. 

"Wao-w!"  roared  Hans. 

"Whoop !"  bellowed  Barney. 

"I  peen  kilt  alretty  yet!"  shrieked  the  Dutch  boy.  "I 
peen  bit  all  ofer  py  does  cendibedes !" 

"Begorra!  there's  a  bushel  av  th'  craythers  hangin'  to 
me!"  shouted  the  Irish  lad.  "Gi'm  a  dead  b'y  in 
toirely  !" 

"Hel-lup !  hel-lup !"  howled  Hans,  dismally. 

Out  into  the  center  of  the  room  danced  the  two  boys, 
fighting,  clawing,  striking  at  various  parts  of  their  bodies, 
where  the  crawfish  persistently  clung.  They  collided, 
and  both  sat  down  heavily  on  the  floor. 

"It's  kilt  we  are!"  moaned  Barney. 

"Dot  peen  near  knockin'  mine  prains  oua  alretty  yet !" 
declared  Hans. 

"Loight  th'  lamp !" 

"Hel-lup!  hel-lup!  hel-lup!" 

.  In  some  way  they  scrambled  to  their  feet,  and  both 
lunged  for  the  door,  which  they  beat  upon  with  their  fists, 
as  if  they  would  tear  it  down. 

"Docther !"  bellowed  Barney. 

"Toctor!"  screamed  Hans. 

"Will  yez  get  away  fram  thot  dure,  so  Oi  can  open  it?" 

"Ged  avay  dot  toor  from  mineself!"  flung  back  the 
Dutch  boy.  "I  ged  me  to  dot  toor  first,  und  I  peen  der 
first  von  oud !" 

"Oh,  ye  will,  will  yez!    We'll  see  about  thot!" 


Lively  Times.  87 

Biff !  smack !  thud !  thump !  The  two  frantic  boys  were 
hammering  each  other  in  the  darkness  of  their  room, 
while  the  listening  jokers  were  convulsed  with  merriment. 

The  uproar  had  aroused  that  entire  section  of  the  acad 
emy.  The  sentinel  came  down  the  corridor  at  the  double 
quick,  just  as  Frank  Merriwell,  partly  dressed,  leaped  out 
of  his  room  and  flung  himself  against  the  door  of  the 
room  from  which  the  racket  issued. 

Other  boys  came  swarming  into  the  corridor,  and  the 
excitement  was  intense. 

Merriwell  burst  into  the  room,  and,  a  moment  later, 
dragged  out  Hans  and  Barney  into  the  lighted  corridor. 

The  crawfish  were  still  clinging  comfortably  to  various 
portions  of  the  garments  in  which  the  two  lads  had  gone 
to  bed.  Seeing  the  creatures,  Hans  uttered  a  howl  of 
agony  louder  than  any  that  had  yet  issued  from  his 
throat. 

"Cendibedes !"  he  wailed.  "I  vos  a  tead  boy!  I  vos 
peen  bit  in  more  as  nine  huntred  und  sefenteen  blaces 
alretty  yet!  Vere  vos  dot  toctor?" 

"They're  centipades  sure!"  groaned  Barney.  "An  Oi 
didn't  belave  there  wur  such  craythers!  Ouch!  ouch! 
How  they  boight!  Take  'em  off!" 

But  the  two  lads  danced,  kicked  and  beat  about  them 
with  their  arms  so  that  no  one  could  remove  the 
crawfish. 

The  boys  who  were  witnesses  of  this  "circus,"  nearly 
choked  with  laughter.  Sammy  Smiles  had  a  fit,  and 
rolled  on  the  floor,  clinging  to  his  sides. 

All  the  while  Frank  was  apparently  making  desperate 
efforts  to  quiet  the  boys  and  remove  the  crawfish,  but,  at 
the  same  time  he  was  saying  just  loud  enough  for  them  to 
hear: 

"The  bite  is  deadly  poison !    The  only  antidote  is  equal 


88  Lively  Times. 

parts  of  new  milk  and  vinegar  taken  internally.  About  a 
gallon  should  be  absorbed,  while  a  chemically  prepared 
poultice  of  H2o,  tempus  fugit,  and  aqua  pura  should  be 
applied  to  each  and  every  bite." 

"Bring  on  yer  new  milk  and  vinegar,  begorra !"  roared 
the  Irish  boy,  wildly.  "It's  a  barrel  ur  two  Oi'll  drink  av 
th'  sthuff!" 

"Somepody  dose  boultices  make  britty  queek  alretty !" 
shouted  Hans.  "I  vant  dwo  huntred  und  elefen  for  dose 
bites  vot  I  haf  all  ofer  mein  body  on !" 

"Keep  still!"  ordered  the  sentinel.  "Stand  still  while 
those  crawfish  are  removed." 

"You  peen  bitten  all  der  dime  dose  cendibedes  py,  und  I 
pet  me  my  poots  you  don'd  keep  very  sdill  yet  avile! 
We-e-eow !  Dey  vos  eadin'  me  ub  alretty  yet !" 

"Get  away  wid  yez,  ye  spalpane !"  shouted  Barney,  and 
one  of  his  wildly  waving  fists  struck  the  sentinel  between 
the  eyes  and  knocked  him  over  instantly. 

"Remember  it  is  vinegar  and  milk  that  you  want,  and 
you  must  have  it,"  shouted  Frank,  in  the  Irish  lad's  ear. 
"Every  second  you  delay  about  procuring  it  makes  your 
chances  all  the  more  desperate." 

"Begorra !  Oi'll  hiv  it  directly,  av  there's  anything  av 
th'  sort  in  th'  ranch !" 

Then  Barney  made  a  break  for  the  stairs,  with  Hans  a 
close  second,  and  the  boys  could  not  resist  the  temptation 
to  rush  after  them. 

Never  before  had  there  been  such  an  uproar  heard  in 
Fardale  Academy,  and  the  commotion  had  brought  Pro 
fessor  Gunn  and  his  two  principal  assistants,  Professor 
Jenks  and  Professor  Scotch,  from  their  rooms  on  the  floor 
below  the  "Cockloft." 

"What  can  be  the  meaning  of  this  outrageous  hub- 


Lively  Times.  89 

bub?"  cried  Professor  Jenks,  who,  on  account  of  his  ex 
ceeding  height,  was  known  as  "High  Jinks." 

"Goodness  knows !"  exclaimed  Professor  Gunn,  peering 
over  his  spectacles  in  a  horrified  way  at  his  companions. 
"It  must  be  a  mutiny " 

"Or  a  murder !"  chattered  Professor  Scotch,  who  was  a 
very  small  man,  and  was  generally  known  as  "Hot 
Scotch,"  because  of  his  fiery  red  hair  and  peppery  temper. 

"Let  us  proceed  together  to  investigate,"  came  reso 
lutely  from  Professor  Gunn's  lips. 

"All  right,"  said  High  Jinks,  bravely.  "Lead  the  way, 
sir." 

"Be  cautious,  gentlemen — be  cautious!"  urged  Hot 
Scotch,  his  face  pale  and  his  teeth  rattling  together. 
"Such  dreadful  shrieks  have  never  before  assailed  my 
ears — never !  They  are  certainly  cries  of  mortal  agony !" 

"Oh,  you  can  go  to  your  room,  and  lock  yourself  in,  if 
you  are  afraid !"  came  scornfully  from  the  tall  professor's 
lips. 

"Who's  afraid!"  bristled  the  little  man,  instantly. 
"You  will  find  I  am  not  afraid  of  you,  sir!  I  am  ready 
t/"t__" 

"Gentlemen !  gentlemen,  silence !"  came  commandingly 
from  Professor  Gunn's  lips.  "I  will  not  have  this  un 
seemly  bickering !  If  you  are  ready,  come  on." 

So  they  moved  toward  the  stairs,  High  Jinks  resolutely 
keeping  by  Professor  Gunn's  side,  while  Hot  Scotch  lin 
gered  a  little  in  the  rear,  clinging  to  the  tail  of  the  head 
professor's  coat. 

Just  as  they  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  were 
about  to  ascend,  feet  were  heard  rushing  along  the  cor 
ridor  above,  and  then  Barney  Mulloy  came  plunging 
down  the  stairs,  with  Hans  Dunnerwust  riding  astride  his 


90  Lively  Times. 

neck,  both  in  their  nightclothes,  with  a  few  crawfish  still 
clinging  to  them. 

The  three  professors  were  unable  to  get  out  of  the  way, 
so  the  frantic  boys  plunged  straight  into  them,  and  all 
fell  in  a  struggling,  squirming  mass  on  the  floor. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WARNED. 

At  the  head  of  the  stairs  swarmed  the  plebes,  who  were 
convulsed  with  laughter. 

"Oh !  oh !  oh !"  gasped  Sammy  Smiles,  clinging  to  his 
sides.  "Somebody  please  do  something  to  stop  me  from 
laughing!  Ha!  ha!  ha!  If  I  don't  stop  soon,  I'll  die! 
Oh,  dear !  oh,  dear !  I  am  sore  all  over !" 

"Help !"  cried  Professor  Gunn. 

The  boys  on  the  floor  below  the  Cockloft  were  out  by 
this  time,  and  they  were  enjoying  the  spectacle  quite  as 
much  as  the  plebes  above. 

Frank  had  rushed  into  his  room,  and  he  came  forth 
with  a  bag  that  contained  something  that  moved  and 
snarled.  Reaching  the  head  of  the  stairs,  he  quickly 
opened  the  mouth  of  the  bag  and  extracted  two  cats. 
He  had  slipped  on  a  pair  of  heavy  gloves,  and  he  suc 
ceeded  in  holding  the  cats  securely,,  while  he  said  to  Ned 
Gray: 

"Quick — take  the  string  that  held  the  mouth  of  the 
bag — tie  their  tails  together!  Lively!" 

Ned  caught  up  the  string,  and  worked  swiftly,  tying 
the  cats'  tails  tightly  together. 

When  this  was  accomplished,  Frank  gave  the  felines  a 
fling  toward  the  group  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

The  cats  struck  one  on  either  side  of  Professor  Gunn's 
neck,  and,  as  their  tails  were  tied  together,  they  hung 
there,  but  not  quietly. 


92  Warned. 

With  wild  howls  of  agony,  they  began  clawing  each 
other,  incidentally,  by  way  of  diversion,  socking  their 
claws  into  the  professor's  face  now  and  then,  and  ripping 
up  a  few  furrows  in  that  gentleman's  countenance. 

Professor  Gunn  howled  louder  than  the  cats,  and  tried 
to  fling  them  off;  but  they  clung  to  him  as  if  they  loved 
him,  and  continued  to  shower  marks  of  affection  upon 
him. 

"Great  Scott !"  gasped  Ned  Gray.  "If  it  is  ever  found 
out  that  you  were  at  the  bottom  of  this,  Merriwell,  you 
will  be  expelled  sure !" 

"Then  I  shall  perish  in  a  good  cause,"  laughed  Frank. 
"Fun  is  better  than  medicine,  and  we  were  beginning  to 
stagnate." 

"Help!"  cried  Professor  Gunn,  in  tones  of  deep  an 
guish.  "Take  these  beasts  away!  They  are  devouring 
me!" 

"Meow !  me-e-eow !  S'pt !  s'pt !  Me-e-e-e-ow !"  howled 
the  cats,  as  they  continued  to  scratch  the  professor's  face 
till  it  began  to  look  like  the  colored  map  of  a  country  that 
had  been  disturbed  by  a  violent  earthquake. 

Somehow  Hot  Scotch  had  gotten  into  a  wrangle  with 
High  Jinks,  whom  he  was  holding  down  and  punching 
vigorously. 

"Hit  me  in  the  ribs,  will  ye!  Pound  me  in  the  eye, 
will  ye?  Tackle  me  when  down,  will  ye ?  Well,  I've  got 
a  score  against  you,  and  I'll  settle  it  now !" 

"Take  him  off!"  squealed  Jenks,  thrashing  about  with 
his  long  legs.  "Save  me !  save  me !" 

Having  untangled  themselves  from  the  mass  and  be 
come  freed  of  the  crawfish  in  the  struggle,  Hans  and  Bar 
ney  sat  on  the  floor  and  stared  in  astonishment  at  the 
spectacle.  The  sight  was  too  much  for  the  risibilities  of 


Warned.  93 

the  Irish  boy,  and  he  forgot  that  he  had  been  severely  bit 
ten  by  "centipades." 

"Begorra!  Dutchy,  this  is  a  roight  loively  avening, 
Oi  do  belave,"  he  chuckled.  "Will  yez  look  at  this  fer  a 
racket,  Oi  dunno !  Hurro !  Sail  in,  b'ys !" 

"Veil,  I  don't  efer  seen  der  peat  uf  dot !"  gasped  Hans, 
his  eyes  bulging.  "Uf  dot  don't  peen  a  recular  fight,  I 
vos  an  oysder!" 

"Now,  boys,  it's  time  to  take  a  hand,"  said  Frank  Mer- 
riwell.  "Be  lively!  Gather  up  the  crawfish,  and  throw 
'em  out  of  the  windows.  Work  quick !  Here,  Windsor, 
dispose  of  this  bag !" 

His  words  put  the  cadets  in  motion.  Down  the  stairs 
he  ran,  and  quickly  gathered  up  every  crawfish  he  could 
find,  while  others  followed  his  example.  Then,  leaving 
the  boys  to  take  care  of  the  cats  and  separate  the  fighting 
professors,  he  bounded  up  the  stairs  and  hurried  to  the 
room  occupied  by  Barney  and  Hans,  where  he  removed 
every  crawfish  he  could  find  in  the  beds  or  upon  the  floor. 
He  worked  with  great  swiftness,  and  accomplished  all  this 
in  a  very  few  seconds. 

In  the  meantime,  some  of  the  boys  who  had  been  in  the 
joke  from  the  start,  took  hold  and  aided  Frank  to  clear 
out  all  signs  of  the  crawfish,  while  others  hastened  to 
Professor  Gunn's  assistance,  and  pulled  off  the  cats,  re 
moving  the  string  from  their  tails. 

Barney  and  Hans  were  beginning  to  call  for  the  doctor 
again,  declaring  they  had  been  bitten  by  "centibedes,"  or 
"cintipades,"  and  Professor  Gunn  was  glaring  over  a 
handkerchief  held  to  his  bleeding  face,  while  High  Jinks 
and  Hot  Scotch  stood  apart  and  glowered  at  each  other, 
ready  to  resume  hostilities  at  the  slightest  provocation. 

Lieutenant  Gordan  was  on  hand,  looking  very  stern, 
and  asking  a  few  very  pointed  questions.  He  fully  under- 


94  Warned. 

stood  a  practical  joke  had  been  perpetrated,  and  woe  to 
the  perpetrator  if  the  lieutenant  found  proof  against  him. 
Gordan  was  stern  and  as  unwavering  as  the  hills  in  the 
discharge  of  his  duty. 

But  the  lieutenant  found  five  very  excited  and  inco 
herent  persons  in  the  group  that  had  assembled  at  the  foot 
of  the  stairs.  Professors  Jenks  and  Scotch  would  not  say 
much  of  anything,  only  mutter  and  glare  daggers  at  each 
other,  while  Professor  Gunn  was  too  furious  and  too  con 
fused  to  tell  anything  straight.  Barney  and  Hans  de 
clared  over  and  over  that  they  had  been  bitten  by  "centi 
pedes,"  and  showed  the  wounds.  The  jumbled  story  told 
by  them  puzzled  the  lieutenant  more  than  anything  else. 

Having  been  released,  the  cats  had  taken  flight. 

Lieutenant  Gordon  did  not  say  much,  but  the  expres 
sion  on  his  face  told  that  he  meant  to  investigate  the  affair 
thoroughly.  The  time,  however,  was  not  suitable  for  an 
investigation,  and  so  he  ordered  everybody  to  their  rooms. 
Barney  called  for  a  drink  of  milk  and  vinegar,  but  the 
lieutenant  assured  him  that  he  was  not  in  danger  of  dying 
immediately  if  he  did  not  obtain  what  he  desired,  so  both 
the  Irish  lad  and  the  Dutch  boy  were  sent  to  their  rooms, 
like  the  others. 

In  a  brief  time  silence  settled  over  the  academy,  and  no 
one  could  have  fancied  there  had  been  such  an  uproar 
there  a  short  while  before. 

In  the  morning,  Bartley  said  to  Frank. 

"What  in  the  world  has  got  into  you,  old  man?  You 
are  full  of  the  Old  Harry,  lately.  You  will  have  this 
academy  turned  bottom  up,  if  you  keep  on." 

Frank  smiled. 

"We've  got  to  have  something  to  break  the  monotony," 
he  said.  "A  fellow  gets  tired  of  plugging  away  at  his 
studies  all  the  time." 


Warned.  95 

"That's  so,"  admitted  Bart,  who  was  a  dark-faced,  re 
served  sort  of  boy ;  "but  such  tricks  as  you  perpetrated  last 
night  are  dangerous." 

"How?" 

"What  if  Lieutenant  Gordan  finds  out  you  were  at  the 
bottom  of  it  ?  You  know  what  will  happen." 

"Sure!" 

"Well,  you  are  taking  big  chances  for  a  little  fun." 

"A  little  fun!"  echoed  Frank.  "Didn't  you  consider 
that  something  more  than  a  little  fun  last  night?  It 
struck  me  as  a  roaring  farce." 

A  faint  trace  of  a  smile  came  to  Hodge's  dark  face. 

"You  enjoy  anything  of  the  kind  far  more  than  I  do, 
Merriwell,"  he  said.  "I  like  fun  of  a  different  sort" 

"Well,  I  fancy  you  will  acknowledge  I  take  some  in 
terest  in  other  sports,  Bart  ?" 

"That's  all  right,  Frank ;  you  are  the  leader  of  our  class 
in  everything,  because  you  are  a  natural  leader.  But  you 
have  a  dangerous  rival." 

"Think  so?" 

"I  know  it.  There  is  a  fellow  in  this  school  who  is 
aiming  to  stand  at  the  head  in  athletics.  Up  to  a  few 
weeks  ago  he  remained  in  the  background,  so  that  little 
or  no  notice  was  taken  of  him ;  but  he  is  coming  to  the 
front  now,  and  I  believe  he  means  to  give  you  a  hot  race 
for  first  position.  He  has  even  declared  openly  that  he  is 
a  pitcher,  and  means  to  make  a  try  for  a  position  on  the 
team." 

"That's  all  right,  Bart.  I  am  not  hoggish  enough  to 
want  all  the  honors,  and,  if  we  play  as  much  ball  as  we  in 
tend  to  next  spring  and  summer,  we'll  need  another 
pitcher.  I  can't  do  all  the  twirling." 

"But  he  says  he  .will  not  play  under  you  as  captain  of 
the  team." 


96  Warned. 

"Ha !  That  is  interesting !  Now  you  are  waking  me 
up.  I  suppose  the  fellow  you  speak  of  is  Paul  Rains  ?" 

"Yes,  he  is  the  one." 

"Then  Rains  is  something  of  an  enemy,  as  well  as  a 
rival.  Well,  we'll  see  who  is  the  better  man." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

PAUI,  RAINS. 

The  short,  dark  days  of  winter  had  brought  about 
changes  in  Fardale  Academy.  Drills  had  been  discon 
tinued,  and,  except  for  weekly  inspections  and  occasional 
guard  duty,  there  were  no  formations  under  arms.  The 
hours  for  study  were  longer,  as  also  were  the  lessons. 
Some  of  the  plebes  were  negligent  and  regardless  of  the 
fact  that  the  January  examinations  were  close  at  hand, 
while  others  were  "boning"  steadily,  doing  their  level 
best  to  stand  well  in  their  classes. 

For  all  of  his  mischievous  disposition,  Frank  was  study 
ing  enough  to  hold  his  own  in  his  class,  and  he  was 
looked  on  favorably  by  his  instructors.  He  was  mag 
netic,  and  had  a  winning  way,  so  that  he  made  many 
friends,  always  among  the  better  class  at  the  school.  No 
one,  either  man  or  boy,  is  ever  popular  without  having 
enemies,  and  this  was  true  of  Frank;  but  his  enemies 
were  those  who  were  jealous  of  him,  or  those  with  whom 
he  did  not  care  to  associate,  for  the  best  of  reasons.  j 

Hodge  was  not  a  fellow  to  make  friends,  being  haughty 
and  proud,  and  Merriwell  obtained  many  enemies  because 
he  roomed  with  Bart,  and  seemed  to  stand  up  for  the 
fellow. 

The  friendship  of  the  two  lads  was  rather  remarkable, 
considering  how  they  had  once  been  enemies,  and  how 
Hodge  had  worked  hard  to  injure  Frank. 


98  Paul  Rains. 

Among  the  plebes  there  were  a  few  who  stood  head  and 
shoulders  above  their  companions  in  athletics.  Hodge 
went  in  for  fencing,  and  Professor  Rhynas  declared  he 
would  make  a  master  of  the  foil.  Hugh  Bascomb,  with  a 
pugilist's  thick  neck  and  round  head,  was  spending  all  his 
spare  time  boxing,  and  it  was  said  that  he  could  strike  a 
blow  that  would  stagger  an  ox.  His  admirers  declared 
it  was  a  beautiful  sight  to  see  him  hammer  the  punching- 
bag,  and  they  assured  him  over  and  over  that  he  was  cer 
tain  to  make  another  Sullivan.  Naturally,  this  gave  Bas 
comb  the  "swelled  head,"  and  he  got  an  idea  into  his 
brain  that  he  was  really  cut  out  for  a  fighter,  and  that  no 
body  in  Fardale  could  stand  up  before  him  for  four 
rounds. 

Day  after  day  Barney  Mulloy  took  a  long  pull  at  the 
rowing  machine.  Ned  Gray  spent  his  spare  time  on  the 
horizontal  bars  or  the  trapeze,  and  Hans  Dunnerwust  tried 
his  hand  at  everything,  making  sport  for  the  spectators. 

Among  the  plebes  there  were  two  lads  who  seemed  all- 
round  athletes.  They  were  Paul  Rains  and  Frank  Mer- 
riwell. 

Paul  did  not  like  Frank.  In  fact,  he  was  envious  of 
Merriwell's  popularity,  although  he  did  his  best  to  keep 
the  fact  concealed.  Being  a  sly,  secretive  person,  it  was 
but  natural  that  Rains  should  come  to  be  considered  as 
modest  and  unassuming.  In  truth,  he  was  not  modest  at 
all,  for,  in  his  secret  heart,  there  was  nothing  that  any 
one  else  could  do  that  he  did  not  believe  he  could  do. 
And  so,  while  appearing  to  be  very  modest,  he  was  really 
intensely  egotistical. 

Rains  had  not  been  given  much  attention  for  a  time 
after  he  entered  the  academy,  but  his  athletic  abilities,  for 
he  was  really  a  capable  fellow,  although  his  capabilities 
were  limited,  were  bringing  him  into  notice. 


Paul  Rains.  99 

Jolly,  open  as  the  day,  Frank  did  not  know  what  it  was 
to  be  crafty  or  secretive.  He  had  a  way  of  saying  things 
he  thought,  and  he  did  not  understand  people  who  kept 
their  fancies  and  ambitious  desires  bottled  up. 

Hodge  had  not  been  the  first  to  give  Frank  a  hint  that 
he  had  a  rival  in  Rains,  but  he  was  the  first  to  tell  him 
that  Rains  had  declared  he  would  not  play  on  the  ball  team 
if  Merriwell  was  captain. 

Frank  remembered  that,  and  he  wondered  what  Rains 
could  have  against  him.  Frank  was  never  able  to  under 
stand  one  fellow  despising  another  because  the  other  was 
popular,  for  it  was  natural  for  him  to  wish  everybody 
good  luck  and  success,  and  he  always  rejoiced  in  the  suc 
cess  of  any  fellow  he  knew,  providing,  of  course,  that  the 
success  was  of  the  right  sort. 

Lieutenant  Gordan  made  a  rigid  investigation  of  the 
racket  caused  by  the  "centipedes,"  but  he  failed  to  fasten 
the  blame  firmly  on  any  one.  Not  one  of  the  boys  who 
knew  the  facts  would  expose  Merriwell,  and  both  Barney 
and  Hans,  discovering  their  wounds  were  not  fatal, 
grinned  and  declared  they  were  not  sure  there  had  been 
anything  in  their  beds,  but  they  thought  they  had  felt 
something. 

Professor  Gunn  was  very  indignant  to  think  the  culprits 
could  not  be  discovered. 

"It  is  a  disgrace  to  the  school !"  he  told  Lieutenant  Gor 
dan.  "Just  look  at  my  face,  sir !  I  am  a  picture !" 

The  lieutenant  did  not  crack  a  smile. 

"You  have  no  one  but  yourself  to  blame  for  your  con 
dition,  sir,"  he  said. 

"Eh?  eh?  How's  that?  how's  that?"  sputtered  Pro 
fessor  Gunn.  "I  don't  think  I  understand  you,  sir." 

"Then  I  will  make  it  clear.    If  you  had  remained  in 


ioo  Paul  Rains. 

your  room,  as  you  should  when  the  disturbance  occurred, 
you  would  not  have  received  those  injuries." 

"But,  sir — but  I  am  the  principal  of  this  school.  It  is 
my  place " 

"It  is  your  place  to  keep  in  your  room,  sir,  when  there 
is  an  outbreak  like  the  one  under  discussion,  and  allow  me 
to  straighten  matters  out.  If  you  had  done  so,  I  might 
be  able  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  this  affair  and  discover  the 
guilty  jokers;  as  it  is,  you  and  your  associates  compli 
cated  matters  so  that  I  do  not  seem  able  to  do  much  of 
anything." 

Having  spoken  thus  plainly,  Lieutenant  Gordan  turned 
on  his  heel,  and  left  the  professor  in  anything  but  a  pleas 
ant  frame  of  mind. 

It  was  a  day  or  two  after  the  occurrence  of  the  "great 
centipede  joke,"  as  the  crawfish  affair  came  to  be  termed, 
that  Paul  Rains  and  Hugh  Bascomb  were  having  a  bout 
with  the  gloves  in  the  gymnasium.  Quite  a  number  of 
spectators  had  gathered,  and  Frank  Merriwell  sauntered 
up  and  joined  the  group. 

Professor  Rhynas  was  giving  his  attention  to  another 
department  of  the  gymnasium,  and  he  had  left  Bascomb 
to  meet  all  comers  and  "give  them  points." 

Bascomb  was  not  finding  it  a  very  easy  thing  to  give 
Rains  many  points,  although  he  believed  he  could  knock 
the  fellow  down  any  time  he  wished  to  do  so  by  simply 
letting  drive  one  of  his  sledgehammer  blows. 

But  Bascomb  had  not  thought  of  striking  Rains  with 
all  his  strength.  He  had  discovered  that  Rains  disliked 
Merriwell,  and  that  was  enough  to  establish  a  bond  of 
friendship  between  the  big  plebe  and  the  lad  with  whom 
he  was  boxing. 

Bascomb  hated  Frank,  but  he  feared  him  at  the  same 
time. 


Paul  Rains.  101 

"Nobody  seems  able  to  get  the  best  of  that  fellow,"  he 
had  thought  a  hundred  times.  "It  seems  to  be  bad  luck 
to  go  against  him,  and  so  I  am  going  to  keep  away  from 
him  in  the  future.  Poor  Gage!  Merriwell  was  bad 
medicine  for  him." 

Bascomb  was  a  coward,  but  he  could  hate  intensely  in 
his  two-faced,  treacherous  way. 

The  moment  Merriwell  joined  the  group,  Bascomb 
noted  it. 

"He's  watching  Rains,"  mentally  decided  the  big  plebe. 
"He  wants  to  see  what  the  fellow  is  made  of." 

Rains  seemed  aware  that  Merriwell  was  a  spectator,  for 
he  braced  up  and  gave  Bascomb  a  merry  go  for  a  few 
minutes,  forcing  the  big  fellow  back,  and  seeming  to  tap 
him  with  ease  and  skill  whenever  and  wherever  he  chose. 

When  this  little  flurry  was  over,  Rains  threw  off  his 
gloves,  and  declared  he  had  had  enough. 

"So  have  I,"  said  Bascomb,  with  a  grin.  "You're  the 
best  man  I've  put  the  mittens  on  with  yet.  I  believe  there 
is  a  fellow  not  more  than  a  hundred  miles  from  here  that 
thinks  he  is  some  one  with  gloves,  but  you  can  do  him 
dead  easy.  More  than  that,  I  think  he  knows  it,  and  I 
don't  believe  he  has  the  nerve  to  stand  up  and  face  you  for 
a  whirl." 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  to  box  with  any  one,"  said  Rains. 
"Keep  still,  Bascomb." 

"You  may  not  want  to  box,  but  you  can  down  Frank 
Merriwell  just  the  same,"  declared  the  big  plebe. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE  BULLY'S  MATCH. 

A  moment  of  silence  followed  Bascomb's  distinctly- 
spoken  words,  and  the  eyes  of  nearly  every  one  were 
turned  on  Merriwell,  to  whose  face  the  hot  color  slowly 
mounted. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Bascomb?"  he  finally 
asked.  "What  do  you  want  to  draw  me  into  this  affair 
for?  'I  don't  know  as  I  have  any  desire  to  put  on  the 
gloves  with  Rains." 

The  big  fellow  grinned  in  a  way  that  was  distinctly  in 
sulting. 

"I  don't  think  you  have,"  he  said.  "You  wouldn't  cut 
any  ice  with  him." 

"You  may  be  right ;  but  I  don't  quite  understand  how 
you  know,  as  I  have  never  stood  up  with  you." 

"Oh,  that  wasn't  necessary;  I've  seen  you  spar,  and  I 
have  your  gage.  You  don't  run  in  the  class  with  Rains." 

At  this  juncture  Rains  made  a  move  as  if  he  would 
quiet  Bascomb,  but  the  big  fellow  quickly  went  on : 

"I'm  not  going  to  keep  still  any  longer.  You're  too 
modest,  Rains.  You  keep  in  the  background,  and  let  fel 
lows  like  Merriwell  take  the  lead  in  everything,  when  you 
should  be  a  leader.  You  are  a  better  all-round  man  than 
Merriwell  any  day,  and  you  can  knock  corners  off  him 
any  time  he  has  nerve  enough  to  put  on  the  mitts  with 
you.  He's  a  dandy  to  push  himself  to  the  front,  but " 


The  Bully's  Match.  103 

That  was  a  little  more  than  Frank  could  stand.  The 
jolly  look  had  vanished  from  his  face,  and  he  faced  Bas- 
comb,  saying  sharply : 

"Look  here,  my  friend,  I  reckon  you  are  saying  one 
word  for  Rains  and  two  for  yourself.  I  haven't  mixed 
up  with  you  for  reasons  that  you  very  well  understand, 
but  I  don't  propose  to  take  much  of  your  talk.  If  there 
is  any  difference  between  Mr.  Rains  and  myself,  we  will 
settle  it  at  another  time ;  but  if  you  want  to  get  a  rap  at 
me,  now  is  the  accepted  occasion,  and  I  will  put  on  the 
gloves  with  you." 

Bascomb  had  not  been  looking  for  this,  and  he  was  taken 
aback  for  a  moment.  Still,  although  he  knew  Merriwell 
was  a  far  better  all-round  athlete,  he  believed  he  could 
more  than  match  him  in  boxing,  so  he  eagerly  accepted 
the  opportunity. 

"I'm  your  man,"  he  said.  "Peel  off  and  get  into  gear. 
It  won't  take  me  long  to  show  you  there  are  a  few  things 
you  do  not  know." 

He  laughed  in  a  disagreeable  way,  and  Hodge,  who  had 
overheard  all,  bit  his  lips  to  repress  an  outburst  of  anger. 

"The  sneak!"  whispered  Bart  to  Frank,  as  the  latter 
stepped  aside  to  take  off  his  coat  and  vest.  "He  means  to 
use  his  sledgehammer  blow  on  you.  He  won't  box  for 
points,  but  he  will  try  to  soak  you.  Look  out  for  him." 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  him." 

"That's  all  right ;  but  you  know  he  has  been  practicing 
that  blow,  and  they  say  it  is  terrible.  He  is  cut  out  for  a 
prizefighter,  and  is  no  fit  boxing  antagonist  for  a  gen 
tleman." 

"I  shall  look  out  for  his  'wicked  left/  as  I  have  heard 
the  boys  call  it." 

"He  wants  to  provoke  you  into  a  fight  with  himsdf  or 
Rains." 


104  The  Bully's  Match. 

"I  thought  as  much ;  but  he  may  change  his  mind  after 
we  spar,  if  he  does  not  catch  me  foul  by  an  accident." 

"He  is  tricky." 

"I  will  watch  out  for  his  tricks." 

"Look  out  for  his  cross-buttock.  He's  stout  as  a 
moose,  and  he  will  give  you  a  nasty  fall." 

For  all  of  his  warning  words,  Bart  had  great  confidence 
in  Frank.  They  had  fought  once,  shortly  after  coming  to 
Fardale,  and  Hodge  had  found  Merriwell  more  than  his 
match  then.  Since  that  time,  Frank  had  missed  no  oppor 
tunity  to  pick  up  points  in  boxing,  and  his  advancement 
had  been  great. 

Still  there  was  a  chance  that,  by  some  accident,  Bas- 
comb  might  land  once  with  that  "wicked  left,"  or  might 
seek  to  injure  Merriwell  by  a  fall,  if  he  found  that  he  was 
matched  in  every  other  way,  so  Bart  was  on  hand  with  his 
words  of  warning. 

It  did  not  take  Frank  long  to  get  ready,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  the  two  boys  faced  each  other,  adjusting 
the  gloves  upon  their  hands.  Then  they  came  up  to  the 
scratch,  and  the  word  was  given  that  started  the  contest. 

Bascomb  started  in  at  once  with  a  series  of  false  mo 
tions  intended  to  confuse  Merriwell,  but  they  simply 
brought  a  faint  smile  to  Frank's  face,  and  he  remained  as 
placid  as  ever  until 

Just  as  Bascomb  had  decided  to  rush,  Merriwell  rushed. 
There  was  a  flashing  of  their  gloves.  The  big  fellow 
struck  twice,  and  both  blows  were  met  by  a  ready  guard. 

Biff!  biff!  biff!  First  with  the  right,  and  then  twice 
with  the  left  Frank  struck  the  big  plebe.  None  of  them 
were  heavy  blows,  but  they  all  stung,  and  the  angry  blood 
surged  to  Bascomb's  face,  as  he  saw  Merrriwell  leap  back 
Neyond  his  reach,  laughing  a  bit. 


The  Bully's  Match.  105 

"Mosquito  bites !"  said  Bascomb,  derisively. 

"But  they  count." 

"Who  cares.  I  will  more  than  square  that  in  a 
minute." 

"All  right;  I  am  waiting." 

Once  more  they  were  at  it,  toe  to  toe,  hands  moving 
slightly,  light  on  their  feet,  ready  to  dodge  or  spring, 
ready  to  strike  or  guard.  Blows  came,  one  landing  on 
Merriwell's  cheek,  and  another  on  his  shoulder ;  but  more 
than  twenty  were  dodged  or  guarded,  and  Bascomb  was 
struck  twice  for  every  blow  he  gave. 

Frank  was  watching  for  that  left  hand  body  blow,  and 
it  came  at  last,  just  when  Bascomb  thought  it  must  count. 

In  that  case  Bascomb  deceived  himself. 

The  blow  was  struck  swiftly  enough,  but  Frank  stopped 
it  with  a  right  hand  guard,  and,  with  his  left,  countered 
heavily  on  Bascomb's  mouth,  sending  the  big  fellow's 
head  back. 

Bascomb  was  surprised,  and  he  showed  it.  He  was 
also  thoroughly  angered,  and  he  proceeded  to  "wade  into" 
Merriwell  like  a  cyclone. 

On  the  other  hand,  Merriwell  was  cool  as  ice,  and  he 
made  every  blow  count  something,  for  even  when  they 
failed  to  land  they  kept  the  big  fellow  busy. 

Time  after  time  Bascomb  rushed  in,  but  Merriwell  was 
light  as  a  feather  on  his  feet,  and  he  danced  nimbly  about, 
tapping  the  other  fellow  now  here,  now  there,  smiling 
sweetly  all  the  while,  and  showing  a  skill  that  was  very 
baffling  to  Bascomb. 

"Hang  him !"  thought  the  big  fellow.  "He  is  a  regular 
jumping  jack.  If  I  don't  land  a  blow  on  him  pretty 
quick,  I  am  going  to  clinch." 

This  he  soon  did,  catching  Frank  for  the  cross-buttock 
throw. 


io6  The  Bully's  Match. 

For  a  moment  it  looked  as  if  Merriwell  would  be  flung 
heavily,  and  Hodge  drew  his  breath  through  his  teeth 
with  a  hissing  sound  that  turned  to  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he 
saw  his  friend  thrust  forward  his  right  foot  between 
Bascomb's,  break  his  wrist  clear  and  catch  the  big  fellow 
behind  the  left  knee  with  his  left  hand,  while  he  brought 
his  right  arm  up  over  Bascomb's  shoulder,  and  pressed 
his  hand  over  Bascomb's  face,  snapping  his  head  back 
and  hurling  him  off  sideways. 

This  was  done  quickly  and  scientifically,  and  it  con 
vinced  Hodge  that  Bascomb  could  not  work  the  cross- 
buttock  on  Merriwell. 

Hugh  Bascomb  was  disgusted  and  infuriated  by  his 
failure.  He  had  counted  on  having  a  soft  thing,  and  he 
was  actually  getting  the  worst  of  the  encounter. 

Time  was  called,  and  a  breathing  spell  taken. 

Then  they  went  at  it  again,  and  this  time  both  worked 
savagely,  their  movements  being  swift  and  telling. 

Watching  this  battle,  Paul  Rains  began  to  believe  that 
he  was  not  yet  quite  Merriwell's  match  at  boxing. 

"But  I  am  a  better  man  than  he  is  at  most  anything 
else,"  thought  the  fellow. 

Smack !  smack !  smack ! 

Merriwell  was  following  Bascomb  up  like  a  tiger,  and 
the  big  fellow  was  forced  to  give  ground.  Again  and 
again  Frank  hammered  the  desperate  plebe,  getting  few 
blows  in  return  and  seeming  to  mind  none  of  them  no 
more  than  drops  of  rain. 

Bascomb's  face  wore  the  look  of  an  enraged  bull.  Sud 
denly,  with  a  quick  side  motion,  he  snapped  off  the  glove 
on  his  left  hand. 

Then,  with  his  bare  first,  he  struck  straight  and  hard 
at  Frank  Merriwell's  face ! 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

RAINS'      CHALLENGE. 

Bascomb's  movement  'had  been  noted  by  the  spectators, 
and  a  cry  of  astonishment  and  warning  broke  from  many 
lips. 

"Look  out !"  shouted  Bart  Hodge. 

Frank  had  seen  the  movement,  and  he  needed  no  warn 
ing. 

Like  a  flash,  he  ducked  to  the  right,  and  Bascomb's  bare 
fist  missed  his  face  and  shot  over  his  shoulder. 

At  the  same  instant  Frank  countered  with  his  left, 
striking  the  big  fellow  on  the  chin,  and  hurling  him 
backward  with  force  enough  to  send  him  reeling. 

Leaping  forward,  Merriwell  followed  up  his  advantage, 
and  Bascomb  received  two  terrible  blows,  one  of  which 
knocked  him  down  as  if  he  had  been  struck  by  a  cannon 
ball. 

Then  Frank  flung  off  both  his  gloves,  his  face  flushed, 
and  his  eyes  flashing,  as  he  exclaimed : 

"Two  can  play  at  your  game,  fellow !  If  you  want  to 
try  a  round  with  uncovered  knuckles,  pick  yourself  up  and 
come  on!" 

Snarling  like  a  wounded  dog,  Bascomb  scrambled  to 
his  feet ;  but  here  the  spectators  surged  between  the  two, 
Rains  catching  hold  of  the  big  plebe,  while  Hodge 
grasped  Merriwell. 

"Easy,  Frank !"  warned  Bart.     "Are  you  crazy  ?    You 


io8  Rains'  Challenge. 

know  what  it  will  mean  if  you  fight  in  the  gym.  Rhynas 
has  noticed  it  now — he's  coming." 

"Confound  that  fellow!"  muttered  Frank.  "I  don't 
often  get  started  this  way,  but  it  was  such  a  dirty  trick 
that " 

"Never  mind,  now.    Keep  still,  or  Rhynas  will  hear." 

"Let  me  get  at  him !"  Bascomb  had  snarled.  "I  will 
beat  the  life  out  of  him !" 

"Stop!  stop!"  said  Rains,  swiftly.  "You  are  making 
a  fool  of  yourself !  You  can't  fight  here !" 

"Can't  I?    Well " 

"No,  it  is  against  the  rules.  If  you  press  this,  you  will 
be  expelled,  for  the  affair  will  be  investigated,  and  it  will 
be  proved  that  you  bared  your  hand,  and  Merriwell  was 
forced  to  do  so  to  defend  himself." 

"Oh,  I  could  hammer  him !" 

"Well,  there  is  plenty  of  time.  Steady,  now !  Here  is 
the  professor.  He  has  scented  a  row.  Can't  you  play 
Cool,  and  pretend  it  was  a  joke?  Quick!" 

Then  Frank  was  surprised  to  see  Bascomb  come  for 
ward,  laughing  in  a  sickly  way,  as  he  said : 

"You're  pretty  flip  with  your  hands,  Merriwell,  and 
that's  right.  I  hope  you  won't  lay  up  anything  against 
me  because  I  lost  my  glove.  I  was  so  excited  that  I  didn't 
know  it  was  gone." 

It  was  on  Frank's  tongue  to  give  Bascomb  the  lie,  but, 
for  once  in  his  life,  Hodge  was  the  cooler  of  the  two,  and 
he  warned  his  friend  by  a  soft  pressure  on  the  arm. 

Then,  seeing  Professor  Rhynas  listening,  with  a  dark 
look  on  his  face,  Frank  laughed,  and  retorted : 

"I  don't  mind  a  little  thing  like  that,  Bascomb,  as  long 
as  you  didn't  strike  me.  I  rather  think  I  held  my  own 
with  you,  and  so  we  will  drop  it." 


Rains'  Challenge.  109 

"Yes,"  said  Bascomb,  "we  will  drop  it — for  the  pres 
ent." 

The  way  he  spoke  the  words  seemed  to  indicate  thaf^ 
though  they  might  let  it  drop  for  the  present,  the  affair 
was  not  settled  between  them,  by  any  means. 

Rhynas  now  demanded  to  know  the  cause  of  the  er-« 
citement,  and  he  was  told  that  Bascomb  had  knocked  hij) 
glove  off,  and  then,  in  his  excitement,  had  struck  a  blow,* 

The  professor  looked  blacker  than  ever. 

"Such  a  thing  is  not  possible,"  he  declared.  "This  ig 
no  resort  for  fighters.  If  you  fellows  have  any  differences) 
to  settle,  settle  them  elsewhere.  I  propose  to  run  thig 
department  so  there  can  be  no  slurs  cast  upon  it,  and  B 
will  not  have  fighting,  quarreling  or  loud  talking  here." 

The  professor  was  very  strict,  and  they  knew  he  meanl 
every  word  he  spoke,  so  they  did  their  best  to  pacify  him 
with  smooth  words  and  apologies. 

The  man,  however,  was  too  shrewd  to  be  deceived,  and 
he  knew  very  well  that  the  two  boxers  had  come  very  near 
fighting  in  the  gymnasium  while  he  was  present.  How« 
ever,  he  could  do  nothing  but  warn  them,  which  he  did, 
and  then  went  about  his  affairs. 

The  spectators  of  the  little  bout  had  been  given  some 
thing  to  talk  about,  for,  up  to  that  moment,  they  had  not 
dreamed  there  was  any  one  in  the  academy  who  could 
stand  up  before  Bascomb's  "wicked  left"  and  not  be  un 
mercifully  hammered. 

Merriwell  had  been  touched  very  few  times  with  Bas 
comb's  left,  for  he  had  constantly  been  on  the  guard  for 
any  blow  that  might  come  from  that  point,  and  he  had 
thumped  the  big  plebe  most  aggravatingly  all  througi- 
the  affair. 

But,  what  was  most  significant,  after  Bascomb  had 
flung  off  one  glove  and  struck  at  Frank  with  his  bare 


no  Rains'  Challenge. 

fist,  the  smaller  and  more  supple  lad  had  sailed  in  and 
shown  that  he  could  put  pounds  into  his  blows,  for  he 
had  driven  Bascomb  back  and  knocked  him  down. 

This  feat  had  caused  Paul  Rains  to  gasp  with  astonish 
ment,  and,  in  his  heart,  he  was  forced  to  acknowledge 
that  he  doubted  if  he  were  yet  a  match  for  Merriwell. 

Hodge  alone,  of  them  all,  had  believed  all  along  that 
Frank  was  more  than  a  match  for  Bascomb. 

•Now  the  spectators  began  to  realize  that  Merriwell  was 
not  given  to  boasting  or  "showing  off,"  for  he  had  made 
no  pretense  to  be  the  champion  boxer,  and  he  had  allowed 
them  to  think  Bascomb  was  more  than  a  match  for  any 
body  in  the  academy. 

When  forced  to  meet  some  one  in  a  contest  that  should 
be  a  test  of  skill,  Frank  had  chosen  to  meet  Bascomb, 
which  showed  he  had  been  confident  in  himself  all  along, 
for  all  that  he  had  not  thrust  himself  forward. 

In  his  heart,  Rains  was  very  sore,  for  he  had  just  met 
Bascomb,  and,  while  he  had  made  a  good  display,  the  big 
fellow  had  shown  that  he  was  the  superior. 

"Merriwell  is  putting  me  in  the  shade  without  running 
up  against  me  at  all,"  thought  Paul.  "I  have  lost  ground 
with  the  fellows  right  here.  How  can  I  recover?" 

It  did  not  take  him  long  to  decide  that  he  must  go 
against  Merriwell  in  some  kind  of  a  contest — and  beat 
him. 

"You  are  very  clever  with  the  gloves,  Merriwell,"  said 
Rains,  stepping  forward,  and  speaking  placidly;  "but  I 
would  like  to  see  what  you  can  do  jumping." 

"Is  that  a  challenge  ?"  asked  Frank,  quietly. 

"If  you  wish  to  regard  it  as  such." 

"Oh,  I  am  not  anxious ;  I  simply  wanted  to  know  just 
what  you  meant  it  for." 

"Then  let  it  go  as  a  challenge." 


Rains'  Challenge.  in 

"For  what — 'high  jump,  or  broad  jump?" 

"Both." 

"That's  the  talk !"  laughed  one  of  the  spectators.  "Now 
We  will  have  more  sport !" 

"All  right,"  laughed  Frank.  "I  will  go  you,  though 
I  have  not  been  doing  much  jumping  lately,  and  I  am  not 
in  my  best  form."  s 

"That  will  sound  all  right  if  you  beat,"  said  Rains; 
"but  it  will  not  do  for  an  excuse  if  you  lose." 

"All  right;  let  it  go.  I  won't  try  to  make  any  other 
excuse  in  case  you  are  the  victor." 

In  a  mass  the  boys  surged  toward  a  piece  of  ground 
just  outside  of  the  gymnasium  adapted  to  jumping. 

"What  shall  it  be  first?"  asked  Frank,  as  he  stood  at 
the  edge  of  the  long  strip  of  turf. 

"Running  long  jump,"  decided  Rains. 

"That's  agreeable.  You  challenged,  and  I  presume  we 
are  to  take  turns  for  three  jumps,  the  one  who  makes  the 
best  leap  out  of  the  number  is  the  winner  ?" 

"That's  all  right." 

Hodge  spoke  up  quickly : 

"What  do  you  mean  by  taking  turns?  Is  one  to  jump 
three  times,  and  then  the  other  jump  three  times  ?" 

"No,  I  mean  for  us  to  alternate,"  explained  Frank* 
"First  one  jumps,  and  then  the  other." 

Hodge  nodded  his  satisfaction. 

"That  is  fair,  and  it  is  much  better  than  the  other  way," 
he  declared. 

The  rivals  made  preparations  for  the  contest.  By  lot 
it  fell  to  Rains  to  lead  off. 

Rains  was  smiling  and  confident. 

"If  there  is  anything  I  can  do,  I  can  jump,"  he  told 
Bascomb,  in  an  aside.  "I  will  beat  him  by  a  foet,  at  the 
very  least." 


H2  Rains'  Challenge. 

"I  hope  you  will  beat  him  by  a  yard !"  muttered  the  big 
fellow,  sullenly.  "I  want  to  see  him  taken  down.  He  has 
been  a  leader  long  enough." 

"Oh,  I  will  manage  to  win  some  of  his  glory  away 
from  him  before  the  spring  campaign  opens,"  said  Rains, 
confidently.  "Donft  you  worry  about  that;  but,"  he 
added,  swiftly,  "don't  repeat  my  words  to  anybody.  I 
am  not  going  to  boast,  but  I  am  going  to  do  something. 
That's  the  proper  way." 

"Sure,"  nodded  Bascomb.    "I  guess  you  can  do  it,  too." 

In  his  heart,  however,  Bascomb  did  not  feel  at  all  sure 
that  Rains  would  prove  the  victor  in  the  jumping  contest. 

"Merriwell  is  the  hardest  fellow  to  beat  that  I  ever 
saw,"  he  told  himself.  "It  doesn't  seem  possible  to  down 
him,  and  keep  him  down.  If  one  seems  to  get  the  best  of 
him  for  a  bit,  he  bobs  up  serenely  directly,  and  comes  out 
on  top.  It  is  just  his  luck !" 

If  Bascomb  had  said  it  was  just  Merriwell's  pluck  he 
would  have  hit  the  truth,  for  Frank,  besides  being  phy 
sically  capable,  was  endowed  with  any  amount  of  determi 
nation,  having  a  never-say-die  spirit  that  would  not  give 
up  as  long  as  there  was  a  ghost  of  a  chance  left  to  pull 
out  a  winner. 

In  the  words  of  the  boys,  "Merriwell  was  no  quitter." 

"Ready,"  called  the  fellow  who  had  been  chosen  for 
referee.  "Rains  will  set  the  stint." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

JUMPING. 

There  was  a  determined  look  on  Paul's  face,  as  he 
walked  to  one  end  of  the  long  strip  of  turf  that  ran  down 
one  side  of  the  gymnasium. 

"He  is  built  for  jumping,"  said  one  of  the  spectators. 
"There  is  a  fine  pair  of  legs,  if  I  ever  saw  a  fine  pair." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  another ;  "and  he  is  full  of  snap 
and  ginger.  He  will  give  Merriwell  a  hard  go." 

"But  Merriwell  is  no  slow  coach  at  anything,"  broke 
in  a  third.  "I  never  saw  a  fellow  who  seemed  able  to 
make  such  a  record  at  all  sorts  of  sports.  Who  would 
have  thought  that  he  could  face  Bascomb  ?  Look !  Rains 
is  going  to  start!  See  him  crouch  for  the  run!  He  is 
like  a  young  panther !  Now  he's  off !" 

Down  the  line  of  turf  darted  Paul,  reached  the  white 
line,  rose  gracefully  into  the  air  with  a  pretty  spring,  and 
sailed  forward  in  a  handsome  jump  that  brought  a  round 
of  applause  from  the  spectators. 

The  measurers  immediately  ran  the  tape. 

"Seventeen  feet  and  four  inches,"  was  the  announce 
ment. 

A  shade  of  disappointment  came  to  the  faces  of  the 
spectators,  for  that  was  far  below  the  Fardale  record. 

Rains,  however,  winked  quietly  to  Bascomb,  as  if  to 
say  that  the  first  jump  was  a  teaser,  just  to  see  what  Mer 
riwell  would  do. 


H4  Jumping. 

Frank  now  took  his  position,  ran  swiftly  and  lightly 
down  the  turf,  and  made  the  jump.  He  seemed  to  be 
doing  his  best,  or  nearly  that,  yet  he  did  not  reach  but  a 
little  beyond  Rains'  mark. 

"Seventeen  feet,  six  inches  and  a  quarter,"  announced 
one  of  the  measurers. 

"I  wonder  if  that  is  anywhere  near  his  limit  ?"  thought 
Paul,  as  he  slowly  walked  back  to  the  starting  point.  "I 
think  I  will  'have  to  give  him  a  stint  this  time." 

As  he  faced  the  mark,  he  gathered  his  energies  in  every 
part  of  his  body,  felt  his  muscles  strain,  knew  his  nerves 
were  at  their  highest  tension. 

"He's  going  to  lay  himself  out  this  time,"  said  one  of 
the  spectators  to  another.  "Seventeen  feet  will  not  be 
mentioned  again." 

Down  the  strip  shot  Rains.  He  reached  the  mark,  and 
went  flying  through  the  air  like  a  bird,  bringing  a  cry  to 
the  lips  of  those  watching,  for  they  saw  he  had  gone  far 
ahead  of  the  first  jump. 

"That  was  a  beauty !"  exclaimed  Bascomb,  speaking  to 
Wat  Snell,  who  stood  watching. 

"It  was  a  good  jump,"  said  Snell ;  "but  Merriwell  will 
beat  it." 

"What  makes  you  think  so  ?" 

"Because  that  fellow  always  beats  at  everything.  I 
had  rather  have  his  luck  than  a  license  to  steal !  I've  quit 
trying  to  down  him,  for  I  found  I  was  bound  to  get  the 
worst  of  it  if  I  kept  it  up." 

"Oh,  his  time  will  come." 

"Perhaps  so ;  but  it  isn't  coming  in  a  hurry." 

"Nineteen  feet,  three  inches  and  a  third,"  announced 
the  measurer. 

"Hooray!"  shouted  one  of  Paul's  delighted  admirers. 


Jumping.  115 

"That's  the  stuff !  Merriwell  will  have  to  shake  himself, 
if  he  means  to  beat  that." 

But  Frank  had  friends  who  were  confident  that  he 
would  still  hold  the  lead. 

"Wait  till  the  next  measurement  is  taken,"  they  said. 

Frank's  manner,  as  he  took  his  place  for  the  start, 
seemed  to  indicate  that  he  believed  the  task  before  him  a 
difficult  one. 

"He's  doubtful,"  muttered  one  of  Paul's  friends. 

"He's  losing  courage,"  said  another. 

Pressing  his  lips  together,  Frank  made  the  run,  and 
the  watchers  held  their  breath  as  he  jumped. 

"He's  tied  Rains !" 

"Not  much !    He's  behind !" 

"Rains  holds  the  lead !" 

"Great  Scott !  is  that  Merriwell's  best !" 

Bascomb  thumped  Wat  Snell  on  the  back. 

"What'd  I  tell  you !"  he  laughed  in  Snell's  ear.  "This 
is  right  where  Merriwell  loses  some  of  his  glory.  Rains 
has  beaten  him." 

"This  time,  perhaps,"  admitted  Snell ;  "but  there  is  an 
other  jump  to  follow,  and  the  best  score  made  is  the  one 
that  decides  the  contest.  You  will  find  Merriwell  is  not 
beaten  yet." 

"Why,  you  talk  as  if  you  wanted  him  to  beat !" 

"Not  much !  I  would  give  almost  anything  to  see  him 
beaten  at  everything  he  attempts.  Don't  think  for  a 
minute  that  I  am  in  love  with  that  fellow !" 

The  tape  had  been  run,  and  now  the  announcement  was 
heard : 

"Nineteen  feet,  one  inch  and  one-third." 

Rains  had  beaten  Merriwell  by  two  inches  on  the  second 
jump. 


Ii6  Jumping. 

But  the  contest  was  not  yet  over,  and  there  was  a 
chance  that  Frank  would  finally  redeem  himself. 

Frank's  friends  were  disappointed.  Hodge  showed 
deep  chagrin  in  his  face,  as  he  drew  Merriwell  aside,  say 
ing  swiftly  and  guardedly : 

"You're  making  a  mistake,  old  man,  if  you  are  holding 
off  for  the  last  jump.  The  second  jump  is  the  one  to  lay 
yourself  out  on  always." 

"Perhaps  I  did,"  smiled  Frank. 

"What !"  gasped  Hodge.    "And  he  has  beaten  you !" 

"It  looks  that  way,  doesn't  it?" 

"But — but — I — I  won't  believe  it !  You  can  do  better — 
you  must  do  better!  Why,  old  man,  you  will  lose  your 
grip  if  you  don't  beat  him !" 

"You  do  not  expect  impossibilities,  do  you  ?" 

"No,  but " 

"Would  you  go  back  on  me  if  I  lost  this  match  ?" 

"You  know  better,  Frank !  I  would  stick  by  you  under 
any  circumstances !" 

"Then  I  shall  not  feel  so  bad  about  losing  it." 

Hodge  gasped  and  clutched  the  arm  of  his  roommate. 

"For  gracious  sake,  you  don't  mean  to  say  he  had  set 
you  a  stint  you  cannot  beat?  You  mustn't  lose — you 
shan't  lose!  Do  brace  up,  old  man!  Why,  think  how 
those  fellows  who  are  envious  of  you  will  rejoice  if  Rains 
comes  out  on  top !  You  must  win !" 

"Well,  I  will  do  my  best  on  the  next.  There  goes 
Rains  for  the  last  jump." 

With  the  ghost  of  a  triumphant  smile  on  his  face,  Paul 
again  took  his  place  at  the  starting  point.  The  smile 
vanished,  and  a  look  of  resolution  took  its  place. 

"He  is  going  to  try  to  beat  his  other  jump!"  said  Bas- 
comb. 


Jumping.  H7 

"He  can't  do  it,"  declared  Snell. 

"Wait  and  see." 

Paul  had  really  resolved  to  beat  his  last  jump.  As  he 
ran,  he  gathered  momentum,  gauging  the  distance  care 
fully,  and  reaching  the  mark  exactly.  The  jump  was  a 
splendid  one,  and  it  was  instantly  seen  that  he  had  actu 
ally  beaten  his  former  record. 

Quickly  and  carefully  the  tape  was  stretched. 

"Nineteen  feet,  nine  inches  and  three-fourths !" 

Then  there  were  exclamations  of  wonderment  from  all 
sides,  and  more  than  one  declared  Merriwell  was  badly 
beaten.  There  were  not  a  few  among  Frank's  friends 
who  confessed  that  he  had  very  little  chance,  and  the 
faces  of  those  who  said  nothing  showed  that  they  had  lost 
heart  to  a  great  extent. 

Hodge  continued  to  talk  excitedly  to  Merriwell,  who 
shook  his  head,  looking  very  grave. 

Paul  Rains  was  quietly  triumphant,  for  he  felt  that  he 
was  safely  the  winner  of  this  contest. 

Merriwell  and  Hodge  went  up  the  strip  together,  the 
latter  still  talking  and  making  an  occasional  gesture. 
Reaching  the  starting  point,  they  paused  and  stood  talk 
ing. 

"By  smoke!"  laughed  Bascomb;  "Merriwell  doesn't 
want  to  try  it  at  all,  and  Hodge  is  having  hard  work  to 
induce  him  to  do  so!  Rains  has  this  match  in  a  walk 
over." 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,"  said  one  of  Frank's  friends, 
doggedly.  "You  may  be  right,  but  don't  you  fancy  for  a 
moment  that  Merriwell  is  going  to  give  up  without  jump 
ing.  He  isn't  that  kind  of  a  hairpin,  my  boy." 

"Well,  he  might  as  well  give  up  without  another  try, 
for  he  doesn't  stand  any  show." 


n8  Jumping. 

"Oh,  wait  and  see — wait  and  see,"  was  all  that  Frank's 
defender  could  say. 

Hodge  was  now  seen  to  leave  Merriwell  and  come  back 
down  the  runway,  and  it  was  noted  that  the  look  on  his 
face  was  far  from  one  of  confidence  and  satisfaction. 

"When  Hodge  loses  confidence  in  Merriwell,  the  case 
is  desperate,"  declared  Bascomb. 

"That's  so,"  confessed  Wat  Snell.  "I  am  beginning  to 
hope." 

"Merriwell  is  making  ready — he's  preparing  for  the 
run !" 

All  eyes  were  now  fixed  on  Frank,  who  had  taken  his 
position  at  the  starting  point.  He  was  seen  to  dig  his  toe 
into  the  ground  to  get  a  brace,  and  he  leaned  far  forward, 
with  one  hand  outstretched,,  then  he  darted  toward  the 
mark. 

With  the  speed  of  a  fawn,  Frank  came  down  the  run, 
reached  the  mark,  shot  like  a  leopard  into  the  air,  sailed 
like  a  soaring  bird,  and  landed  safely  far  beyond  Rains' 
best  mark — so  far,  indeed,  that  the  crowd  was  too  aston 
ished  to  make  a  sound,  but  stood  staring  as  the  tape  was 
laid. 

"Twenty-one  feet  and  two  inches !"  came  the  electrify 
ing  announcement. 

Then,  for  all  of  rules,  for  all  of  Professor  Rhynas, 
Frank's  friends  made  the  air  ring  with  their  wild  shouts 
of  applause. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
BASCOMB'S   MISTAKE. 

Paul  Rains  was  struck  with  dismay  and  confusion, 
which  threatened  to  turn  to  anger. 

He  saw  the  crowd  gathering  round  Frank,  and  con 
gratulating  him.  Paul  was  left  quite  alone.  Not  even 
Bascomb  approached  him,  for  the  big  plebe  was  too  dis 
mayed  to  say  anything  or  do  anything. 

Wat  Snell  simply  muttered  : 

"I  knew  it !" 

His  tone  expressed  his  hopeless  disgust. 

Frank's  hand  was  wrung  till  his  arm  ached,  and  he 
was  told  over  and  over  that  he  would  make  a  new  record 
for  Fardale  Academy  if  he  chose  to  enter  the  athletic  con 
tests  in  the  spring. 

"If  he  chooses!"  shouted  one  enthusiastic  fellow. 
"He'll  have  to  enter,  whether  he  chooses  or  not!  You 
don't  suppose  we  will  let  a  fellow  like  him  remain  out  of 
it,  do  you !" 

"I  knew  you  could  do  it,  old  man!"  murmured  Bart 
Hodge,  his  dark  face  flushed  with  pleasure.  "You  were 
bluffing  all  the  while  that  you  pretended  to  doubt." 

"I  wanted  to  see  how  much  confidence  you  actually  had 
in  me,"  said  Frank,  with  a  smile. 

"Well,  you  found  out." 

"Yes,  and  that  gave  me  a  great  deal  more  of  confidence 
in  myself.  I  tell  you  it  helps  to  know  one  has  friends 


I2O  Bascomb's  Mistake. 

whose  faith  in  him  cannot  be  shaken,  even  when  he  seems 
to  lose  faith  in  himself." 

"Where  is  Rains?" 

"There  he  is.  I  wonder  if  he  is  satisfied  ?" 

Paul  was  still  quite  alone,  pretending  to  examine  the 
spikes  in  the  bottom  of  one  of  his  shoes. 

Frank  moved  toward  his  rival,  and  the  others  swarmed 
along. 

Seeing  them  coming,  Rains  straightened  up,  and 
through  his  mind  flashed  the  thought  that  he  must  not 
show  his  chagrin,  no  matter  how  deeply  he  felt  it,  and  he 
must  receive  Merriwell  in  a  manner  that  would  not  make 
him  seem  like  a  cad  in  the  eyes  of  the  fellows. 

And  so,  when  Frank  came  up,  Paul  said : 

"That  was  a  beautiful  jump,  Merriwell.  You  beat  me 
fairly  and  squarely.  I  can't  deny  that." 

"You  are  satisfied,  then." 

"Perfectly." 

"Then  we  will  try  the  high  jump  next." 

"Not  much !" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  that  I  am  satisfied  for  the  present.  If  you 
can  beat  me  nearly  a  foot  and  a  half  at  the  running  broad 
jump,  you  ought  to  be  able  to  beat  me  at  the  high  jump. 
But  I  am  going  to  try  you  another  whirl  by  and  by." 

"You  do  not  hold  a  grudge?" 

"What  do  you  take  me  for?" 

"Shake  hands?" 

"Of  course." 

Their  hands  met,  but  Frank  did  not  fail  to  note  that 
Rains  shook  in  a  manner  that  was  very  cold  and  insincere. 

"I  reckon  Merriwell  has  come  pretty  near  showing 
what  he  is  made  of,"  said  Hodge ;  "and  those  fellows  who 


Bascomb's  Mistake.  121 

have  been  claiming  that  he  has  won  his  popularity  by 
luck  had  better  keep  still  in  the  future." 

"That's  so!"  shouted  the  crowd,  and  several  who  did 
so  had  been  saying  the  most  disagreeable  things  about 
Frank  a  short  time  before. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  world  so  ephemeral  as  popu 
larity.  The  individual  who  is  to-day  a  hero  may  be  an 
outcast  to-morrow.  There  is  nothing  harder  to  hold  than 
the  esteem  of  a  set  of  school-boys.  He  who  is  regarded 
as  an  idol  in  the  fall  may  be  supplanted  by  a  rival  in  the 
spring,  and  may  find  himself  unnoticed  and  neglected. 
Having  once  become  a  leader  in  a  school,  the  fellow  who 
has  obtained  the  position  must  prove  his  superiority  to 
all  comers  in  order  to  hold  it.  Even  then  his  success  will 
produce  jealous  enemies,  who  will  seek  his  overthrow  by 
some  means,  no  matter  how  unfair. 

Frank  had  not  sought  popularity;  it  had  come  unbid 
den.  Having  found  himself  a  leader,  however,  he  had 
pride  enough  to  hold  the  position  just  as  long  as  he  was 
capable  of  doing  so  fairly  and  honestly.  But  he  had  al 
ready  discovered  that  he  would  be  assailed  openly  and 
secretly,  and  his  foes  would  try  to  drag  him  down  by 
any  means,  fair  or  foul. 

Had  Rains  been  a  little  more  cordial,  had  he  shaken 
hands  with  Frank  as  if  he  really  held  no  grudge,  Merri- 
well  would  have  been  more  than  glad  to  hail  him  as  a 
good  fellow  and  a  friend.  But  the  touch  of  his  fingers 
was  enough  to  reveal  the  bitterness  in  his  heart.  Having 
disliked  and  envied  Merriwell  before,  Rains  would  now 
dislike  and  envy  him  still  more. 

As  soon  as  he  could  do  so  without  attracting  too  much 
attention,  Rains  left  the  excited  throng  of  boys,  and  hu*« 
tied  away  to  one  of  the  dressing-rooms. 


122  Bascomb's  Mistake. 

Hugh  Bascomb  quickly  followed,  being  the  only  one 
among  Rains'  late  friends  to  note  his  departure. 

Bascomb  found  Rains  rubbing  down.  Paul  did  not 
say  a  word  as  the  big  plebe  entered. 

"Well,"  said  Bascomb,  as  he  sat  down  on  a  stool,  "what 
do  you  think  of  Merriwell?" 

"I  think  he  is  a  mighty  hard  fellow  to  beat  at  any 
thing,"  growled  Paul. 

"But  he  can  be  beaten — eh  ?" 

"How?" 

"There  are  ways." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?    Speak  plainly." 

"You  ought  to  know  what  I  mean,"  said  Bascomb,  dog 
gedly,  keeping  his  eyes  on  the  floor.  "It  isn't  always  the 
best  trotter  that  wins  a  race." 

"It  will  not  be  easy  to  beat  Merriwell  fairly." 

"That's  right ;  but  you  are  a  fellow  of  nerve  and  brains, 
and  you  ought  to  be  able  to  devise  some  scheme  to  get 
the  best  of  him  unfairly." 

Rains  stopped  and  stared  at  Bascomb,  his  face  show 
ing  that  he  was  angrier  than  ever. 

"Now  your  meaning  is  pretty  plain,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"I  will  confess  that  I  dislike  Merriwell — that  I  would 
give  almost  anything  to  get  the  best  of  him ;  but  I  want 
you  to  understand,  Hugh  Bascomb,  that  I  am  no  sneak !" 

Bascomb  still  kept  his  eyes  on  the  floor. 

"Oh,  what's  the  use  to  get  on  your  high  horse,  Rains !" 
he  said,  in  his  sullen  way.  "If  you  dislike  Merriwell,  as 
you  pretend,  and  if  you  hope  to  down  him  at  anything, 
you  cannot  be  too  much  of  a  stickler  for  little  things. 
Once  get  him  to  going  down  hill,  and  we  can  keep  him 
going.  I  can  help  you  start  him." 

Had  Bascomb  taken  more  than  a  fleeting  glance  at 


Bascomb's  Mistake.  123 

Rains'  face,  he  must  have  seen  that  the  latter  was  regard 
ing  him  with  contempt. 

"I  suppose  you  have  a  scheme  of  your  own?"  Paul 
finally  observed,  in  a  questioning  way. 

"Sure." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Well,  to  begin  with,  I  have  pretty  good  proof  that 
Merriwell  was  the  originator  and  perpetrator  of  that 
crawfish  joke  on  Mulloy  and  Dunnerwust." 

"What  of  that?" 

"I  think  that  Lieutenant  Gordan  would  be  able  to  fasten 
it  on  Merriwell,  if  he  knew  what  I  know." 

"That  would  mean  certain  expulsion  for  Merriwell." 

"Of  course.  All  three  of  the  professors  were  so 
tangled  up  in  that  affair  that  the  fellow  would  surely  be 
fired,  if  the  blame  could  be  fastened  upon  him." 

"What  do  you  want  of  me  ?" 

Bascomb  cleared  his  throat,  twisted  on  the  stool,  and 
hesitated.  Finally,  he  said : 

"You  may  be  able  to  devise  some  other  means  to  get 
the  best  of  the  fellow ;  but,  if  you  can't,  and  you  are  ready 
to  take  hold  of  this,  you. may  see  him  fired  out  of  the 
academy,  so  he  will  no  longer  be  in  your  way." 

"What  do  you  want  of  me?"  repeated  Rains,  coldly 
and  quietly. 

"Well,  you  see — you  understand — you  know  I  came 
near  getting  into  trouble  once  by  trying  to  help  Gage  do 
Merriwell  up.  After  that  Gage  was  caught  cheating  at 
cards,  and  had  to  run  away.  Everybody  knows  I  hate 
Merriwell,  and  they'd  all  think  I  blowed  if  anything  came 
to  Lieutenant  Gordan's  ears.  That's  why  I  don't  dare 
make  a  move.  With  you  it  is  different." 

"What  do  you  want  of  me?"  demanded  Rains,  the 
third  time. 


124  Bascomb's  Mistake. 

"I  will  give  you  the  proofs,  and  you  can  carry  them  to 
Lieutenant  Gordan,  who  will  follow  it  up,  and  see  that 
Merriwell  is  expelled.  In  that  way,  I  will  not  get  en^ 
tangled,  and  no  one  will  suspect  you." 

With  one  wide  stride,  Rains  reached  Bascomb,  caught 
him  by  the  shoulders,  and  thrust  him  backward,  thus 
forcing  him  to  look  up. 

"You  have  insulted  me!"  came  fiercely  from  Paul's 
lips.  "I  am  no  sneak  and  informer!  Did  you  think  I 
would  do  the  dirty  trick  you  are  too  much  of  a  coward 
to  try  ?  Well,  you  made  a  big  mistake !  I  dislike  Merri 
well,  but  I  am  not  ready  to  make  myself  contemptible  in 
my  own  eyes  by  blowing  on  him." 

Bascomb  put  up  his  big  hands  and  thrust  Rains  off. 

"Whom  are  you  calling  a  coward!"  he  snarled,  as  he 
got  upon  his  feet. 

"You !"  shot  back  Paul.  "You  are  a  coward  and  a 
sneak!" 

"Why,  I'll  thrash  you  well !" 

"No,  you  won't!"  cried  Rains,  flinging  up  one  hand 
to  stop  the  advance  of  the  big  plebe.  "If  you  lay  a  hand 
on  me,  I  will  make  known  to  the  entire  school  the  scheme 
you  just  proposed  to  me.  The  boys  would  tar  and  feather 
you." 

Bascomb  stopped  and  showed  his  yellow  teeth,  while 
he  trembled  slightly  with  anger. 

"So  that's  your  trick !"  he  said,  growlingly. 

"Yes,  that's  my  trick ;  and  if  you  blow  on  Merriwell,  I 
will  play  the  card.  You  made  a  big  mistake  in  taking  me 
for  a  sneak  just  because  I  didn't  happen  to  like  a  fellow 
who  is  popular.  Get  out  now,  and  don't  come  round  me 
again !  I  don't  belong  to  your  class,  and  I  don't  want  to 
have  anything  to  do  with  you.  Get !" 

Bascomb  hesitated,  longing  to  strike  Rains,  but  not 


Bascomb's  Mistake.  125. 

daring  to  do  so.  Slowly  he  moved  toward  the  door, 
where  he  paused  to  growl : 

"This  is  all  right!  I  will  get  square  with  you  some 
time.  If  you  blow  on  me,  I  will  pound  the  life  out  of 
you!" 

Then  he  went  out. 

Rains  had  shown  his  manhood. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  RIVAL  PROFESSORS. 

Professor  Jenks  and  Professor  Scotch  were  rivals. 
Each  admired  and  sought  to  win  the  affections  of  a  widow 
of  uncertain  years,  who  lived  in  Fardale  village. 

For  some  years  Professor  Gunn's  two  assistants  had 
been  very  friendly,  but  Nancy  Cobb,  the  widow  spoken 
of,  was  the  rock  on  which  they  split. 

Their  jealousy  often  caused  them  to  completely  forget 
their  dignity,  and  they  did  things  that  made  them  utterly 
ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  all  beholders. 

As  yet,  neither  had  possessed  nerve  enough  to  propose 
to  the  widow,  and  so,  wishing  to  make  a  sure  catch,  the 
elderly  lady  had  clung  to  both,  ready  to  jump  at  the 
first  one  who  should  offer  himself. 

The  cause  of  the  ill-will  existing  between  the  under 
professors  was  well  known  to  the  cadets  at  Fardale  Acad 
emy,  and  had  provided  them  with  no  small  amount  of 
sport. 

Now  it  happened  that  Tad  Jones,  a  village  lad  wh« 
was  very  well  known  to  Frank  Merriwell,  was  the  nephew 
of  the  coquettish  widow,  and  the  widow  made  her  home 
with  Tad's  father  and  mother. 

Tad  was  a  lively  youngster,  who  liked  fun,  and,  in 
more  ways  than  one,  he  was  "a  thorn  in  the  flesh"  unto 
his  aunt. 

One  day  he  succeeded  in  seeing  Frank,  whom  he  in- 


The  Rival  Prolessors.  127 

formed  that  he  had  put  up  another  joke  on  his  Aunt 
Nancy. 

"I've  been  imertatin'  her  handwritin'  lately,"  said  Tad, 
"and  I've  got  so  I  can  scrawl  jest  like  her.  Old  Scotch 
and  Jenks  ain't  never  run  onto  each  other  at  our  house, 
but  I've  fixed  it." 

Tad  grinned  gleefully,  as  he  made  this  declaration. 

"Fixed  it,  how?"  asked  Frank. 

"Why,  I )  writ  'em  both  a  letter,  askin'  'em  to  call  to 
night  at  eight  o'clock,  and  I  signed  Nancy's  name.  I 
made  the  letters  jest  a  little  spooney,  but  not  too  much 
so.  I'll  bet  they'll  be  tickled  to  death,  and  they'll  come 
sure." 

"And  meet  there?" 

"Yep." 

"There's  liable  to  be  trouble." 

"That's  what  we're  lookin'  for/'  chuckled  the  fun- 
loving  youngster.  "Oh,  if  they'd  jest  fight!" 

"I'd  like  to  see  the  circus." 

"Come  on  over." 

"I  don't  know  as  I  can  get  away.    I  will  come  if  I  can." 

"All  right.    Bring  along  any  of  the  fellers." 

That  night  Frank  found  a  way  to  get  leave  to  go  to 
the  village,  and  Hans,  whom  he  had  told  of  the  coming 
"racket,"  escaped  from  the  building  and  joined  him  out 
side  the  grounds.  Together  they  went  over  to  the  village, 
and  called  on  Tad  Jones. 

Tad  was  waiting  for  them,  and  he  straightway  smug 
gled  them  into  the  house. 

"Aunt  Nancy's  expectin'  Professor  Jenks  to  call,"  he 
gleefully  whispered.  "I  told  her  that  I  saw  him,  and  he 
said  he'd  be  here  to-night,  so  she's  frizzled  and  primped 
to  receive  him." 

"You'll  get  into  a  scrape,"  said  Frank. 


128  The  Rival  Professors, 

"I  don't  care  for  that,  if  I  can  see  some  fun.  Come 
right  into  the  parlor,  and  we'll  all  hide.  Aunt's  up  in  her 
room,  layin'  on  the  finishin'  touches." 

Into  the  parlor  they  slipped.  A  fire  was  burning  in  the 
old-fashioned  open  fireplace,  and  it  was  plain  that  Mrs. 
Cobb  had  "spruced  things  up"  to  receive  company. 

"Two  of  us  can  git  behind  the  organ  in  the  corner 
here,"  said  Tad.  "The  other  feller  can  hide  under  the 
sofa." 

As  the  sofa  was  a  long,  old-fashioned  affair,  and  any 
one  hidden  beneath  it  could  command  a  view  of  the  en 
tire  room,  Frank  decided  to  conceal  himself  there. 

This  was  barely  settled  when  there  came  a  sharp  rap 
on  the  door. 

"Git  under  cover  quick!"  hissed  Tad.  "That  must  be 
one  of  'em !" 

Tad  and  Hans  made  haste  to  squeeze  in  behind  the 
organ,  and  Frank  crept  under  the  sofa. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !"  muttered  the  Dutch  lad,  "uf  id 
don'd  peen  britty  tight  blace  here  den  I  ton't  know 
somedings." 

"It  is  all  right,"  returned  Tad,  who  had  obtained  a 
position  where  he  could  peer  out.  "Keep  cool,  and  let 
your  hair  curl." 

Pretty  soon  Nancy  fluttered  downstairs,  and  then 
Frank  heard  the  high-pitched  voice  of  Professor  Jenks  in 
the  hall.  A  moment  later,  the  widow  entered  the  parlor. 

"Oh,  dear!"  she  simpered.  "What  a  surprise  this  is, 
dear  Mr.  Jenks !  Set  right  down  on  this  chair  close  to  the 
fire.  You  must  be  cold.  Let  me  take  your  hat  and  coat." 

"I  am  rather  cold,"  squeaked  the  professor,  as  he  peeled 
off  his  coat,  and  allowed  her  to  take  it  away  with  his  hat. 
"It  is  a  chilly  night.  You  are  cozy  in  here." 

The  widow  was  wonderfully  and  artistically  gotten  up 


The  Rival  Professors.  129 

in  a  back-number  silk  dress,  beneath  which  was  an  ex 
pansive  hoop-skirt,  while  all  around  her  face  were  cork 
screw  curls,  meant  to  be  very  fetching.  As  she  was  some 
what  deaf,  although  she  never  acknowledged  it,  she  mis 
understood  the  professor's  last  remark. 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  smiled,  coming  back  and  sitting  quite 
close  to  Jenks,  "no  one  can  hear.  We  are  quite  alone."  [ 

"Is  that  so?"  gasped  the  professor,  nervously,  looking 
as  if  he  contemplated  flight.  "I  received  your  letter." 

"You  believe  I'm  better!  Why,  my  dear  professor,  I 
haven't  bin  sick.  You  must  have  been  misinformed." 

"I  didn't  say  that,  Mrs.  Cobb.    I  said  that  I  received 
» 

At  this  moment  there  came  another  sharp  rap  on  the 
door,  and  Professor  Jenks  started  as  if  he  had  been 
struck. 

"Somebody  is  knocking,"  he  said. 

"Rocking?"  smiled  Nancy.  "Then  take  the  rocking- 
chair.  I  like  to  rock  myself  pritty  well." 

"Somebody  is  knocking — knocking  at  the  doorf  cried 
the  professor,  in  his  high  falsetto. 

"Oh,  somebody  knocking.     I  will  see  who  it  is.    Mrs. 
Jones  doesn't  always  hear  'em.    I  sometimes  think  she  is. 
ruther  hard  of  hearing." 

As  she  fluttered  out  of  the  room,  the  professor  gasped : 

"I'm  in  a  perfect  sweat  already !  I'd  rather  face  a  bat 
tery  !  I  wonder  if  she  will  propose  ?  It's  leap  year,  and 
she  may." 

Then  he  suddenly  started  to  his  feet,  with  an  exclama 
tion  of  surprise  and  anger,  for  he  heard  Professor 
Scotch's  hoarse  voice  in  the  hall. 

"Confound  it!"  exclaimed  Jenks.  "What's  brought 
him  here  to-night  ?  I  don't  understand  this," 


130  The  Rival  Professors. 

In  came  Nancy,  and  Professor  Scotch  was  close  behind 
her. 

"It's  so  good  of  you  both  to  call !"  gushed  the  widow, 
girlishly.  "We'll  have  a  real  lovely  little  chat." 

Professor  Scotch  started  back  as  he  caught  sight  of 
his  rival,  and  the  two  glared  at  each  other.  Then  Scotch 
growled : 

"You  here?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  squeaked  Jenks,  defiantly.  "Who's  got  a 
better  right,  I'd  like  to  know  ?" 

"But  I'd  have  you  to  understand  I  was  invited." 

"So  was  I." 

"But  I  received  an  invitation  from  this  particular  lady." 

"So  did  I." 

"Set  right  down  on  the  sofy,  Professor  Scotch,"  urged 
Nancy.  "We'll  pop  some  corn,  and  eat  some  apples,  and 
be  real  sociabul." 

"Madame,"  said  the  little  man,  with  great  dignity,  "I 
think  there  is  some  mistake." 

"You'd  like  some  steak  ?"  exclaimed  'Mrs.  Cobb,  in  sur 
prise.  "I  never  heerd  of  people  havin'  steak  to  treat 
callers  on.  I  don't  b'lieve  there's  a  bit  in  the  house.  I 
s'pose  you  do  git  awful  sick  of  the  food  they  have  over 
to  the  'cademy.  Now,  if  you  was  a  married  man,  and  hed 
a  wife  to  cook  for  ye " 

"I  say  I  think  there  is  a  mistake  in  this  matter." 

"Beefsteak  in  a  platter?  Yes,  that's  a  good  way  t« 
senre  it." 

The  little  professor  gave  a  gasp,  and  collapsed  onto 
the  sofa.  And  Frank  promptly  jabbed  a  hatpin  up 
througk  the  sofa,  so  that  it  penetrated  the  professor  to 
a  distance  of  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch, 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

4 

A  LIVELY  CALL. 

"Whoop!"  roared  the  big  voice  of  the  little  man,  and 
Professor  Scotch  shot  into  the  air  like  a  jumping-jack 
out  of  a  box.  "Wow !"  he  howled,  clutching  convulsively 
at  that  part  of  his  person  which  had  felt  the  hatpin. 
"What  did  I  sit  down  on?" 

The  widow  looked  frightened,  and  Professor  Jenks 
looked  astonished. 

"What  did  I  sit  down  on?"  repeated  Professor  Scotch, 
his  red  hair  bristling  with  anger. 

"Why,  you  sat  on  the  sofa,  sir,"  squeaked  Jenks. 

"Then  there  must  be  a  whole  nest  of  wasps  concealed 
in  that  sofa!"  shouted  Scotch.  "I  was  stung,  or  I  was 
stabbed — I  don't  know  which." 

"Why,  I'm  sure  I  cannot  imagine  what  the  matter  with 
you  can  be,"  fluttered  the  widow,  in  distress. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter  with  your  old 
sofa." 

He  spoke  so  loudly  that  she  understood  him,  and  she 
immediately  turned  up  her  nose. 

"Old  sofa,  sir — old  sofa !  There  is  nothing  the  matter 
with  that  sofa.  Your  language  is  surprisingly  offensive, 
sir." 

"Te-he,  he,  he!"  giggled  Jenks.  "Now  you're  getting 
it,  Scotch !  You've  put  your  foot  in  it." 

"Beg  your  pardon — beg  your  pardon,"  roared  the  little 


132  A  Lively  Call. 

man.  "I  did  not  mean  any  offense,  Mrs.  Cobb,  but  I  as 
sure  you  there  must  be  a  dagger  concealed  in  that  sofa, 
for  some  pointed  weapon  entered  my  person  in  a  most 
painful  manner.  If  you  will  excuse  me,  I'll  take  this 
chair,  for  I  really  do  not  dare  sit  down  there  again." 

The  widow  gave  a  sniff. 

"Your  courage  is  very  limited,"  she  said.  "Now,  I  do 
love  to  admire  a  man  with  courage  enough  to " 

"Ex-cuse  me,"  squealed  Jenks,  elevating  his  voice. 
"The  sofa  is  good  enough  for  me." 

Down  he  sat  upon  it,  smiling  triumphantly. 

Frank  still  had  the  hatpin — which  he  had  found  on 
the  floor  beneath  the  sofa — ready  for  use,  but  he  held  his 
hand  a  bit,  knowing  he  could  give  Jenks  a  greater  shock 
if  he  should  be  pricked  after  he  had  sat  there  a  while  in 
apparent  security. 

"Oh,  you're  a  daring  blade — you  are !"  sneered  Scotch, 
fiercely,  as  he  glared  at  Jenks.  "You'd  walk  right  up  to 
the  mouth  of  a  cannon — if  you  knew  it  wasn't  loaded !" 

"Well,  I  never  yet  got  frightened  by  a  hair-cloth  sofa," 
squeaked  Jenks. 

The  widow  smiled  seductively  on  the  long  and  lanky 
professor. 

"You  don't  find  nothing  the  matter  with  the  sofy,  do 
you,  professor?"  she  asked. 

"Not  a  thing,"  piped  Jenks.  "It  is  ever  the  wicked 
man  who  feels  the  pricks  of  conscience.  Now,  my  con 
science  is  easy,  and  so  I  do  not  feel We-e-e-ow! 

Murder !  I'm  stabbed !  I'm  killed !  We-e-ow !" 

Professor  Jenks  shot  into  the  air  with  such  sudden 
ness  and  vigor  that  he  thumped  his  head  against  the  low 
ceiling,  which  seemed  to  fling  him  back  upon  the  sofa, 
and  Frank  promptly  gave  him  a  second  dose  of  hatpin. 

"Wo-o-ouchl"  squealed  the  tall  professor,  bounding 


A  Lively  Call.  133 

up  again,  and  dancing  wildly  round  the  room,  with  his 
hands  concealed  beneath  the  tails  of  his  coat.  "That  sofa 
is  filled  with  broadswords  and  bayonets!  It  is  stuffed 
with  deadly  weapons !" 

Professor  Scotch  literally  roared  with  laughter. 

"Oh,  there's  nothing  the  matter  with  the  sofa!"  het 
laughed.    "Just  go  right  back  and  sit  down  there.    Ha! 
ha!  ha!    It  is  ever  the  wicked  man  who  feels  the  pricks 
of  conscience.    Ha !  ha !  ha !    Ho !  ho !  ho !" 

"Shut  up!"  piped  Jenks,  coming  close  to  Scotch,  at 
whom  he  shook  his  fist  threateningly.  "Shut  up,  or  I  will 
thump  you !" 

"Don't  you  dare  do  it  here.    If  you  do,  I'll " 

"What?" 

"I'll  see  you  later." 

"Landy  massy !"  spluttered  Nancy.  "I  do  believe  you've 
both  been  tooken  crazy !" 

Behind  the  organ  were  two  boys  who  were  holding 
their  hands  over  their  mouths  to  keep  from  roaring  with 
laughter,  while  Frank,  under  the  sofa,  was  finding  it  no 
easy  task  to  be  silent. 

The  widow  was  frightened,  and  both  of  the  professors 
immediately  sought  to  reassure  her.  They  pranced  up 
on  either  side,  and  Scotch  began : 

"Don't  be  alarmed,  Mrs.  Cobb ;  we'll  not  fight " 

"You're  not  tight?  Well,  you  act  as  if  you  were,  and 
that's  a  fact." 

"Oh,  go  fall  on  yourself,  Scotch !"  advised  Jenks,  drop 
ping  into  the  slang  he  had  overheard  some  boy  use. 
"This  is  an  unfortunate  affair." 

"What's  the  matter  with  my  hair?"  indignantly  asked 
the  widow,  as  she  caressed  her  corkscrew  curls.  "You 
are  getting  very  personal,  sir." 


134  A  Lively  Call. 

"Ho !  ho !"  laughed  Scotch,  guardedly.  "Now  you  are 
getting  it,  Jenks !" 

"You  make  me  tired!" 

"Go  have  your  voice  filed,  so  you  won't  be  an  old 
woman." 

"Who  be  you  callin*  an  old  woman?"  cried  Nancy, 
catching  the  words  with  wonderful  quickness.  "I  must 
say  your  language  is  most  surprisin'  and  offensive,  sir." 

"Excuse  me/'  roared  Scotch.  "I  was  speaking  to  Mr. 
Jenks." 

"But  he  isn't  a  woman,"  said  Nancy,  suspiciously.  "I 
don't  know  why  you  should  use  such  language  to  him." 

"You've  put  your  foot  in  it  now,"  snickered  the  little 
man. 

"And  I  don't  know  what  he's  grinnin'  and  laughin* 
about.  You  both  act  as  if  too  much  studyin'  and  tooterin* 
was  beginnin'  to  affect  your  brains.  Now,  why,  don't 
you  both  git  married,  and  give  up  this  awful  wearin'  life 
you  are  leadin'?" 

"That's  just  what  I  called  to  see  about,"  declared  Pro 
fessor  Scotch,  bracing  up.  "I  called  to  pro " 

"Hold  on!"  squealed  Jenks,  excitedly.  "I  was  here 
first,  and  I  will  have  my  first  say.  Mrs.  Cobb,  my  heart 
has  long  yearned  for  domestic  joys  and  comforts." 

"Oh,  I  don't  keer  how  much  you've  earned ;  it's  what 
you've  saved  that  counts." 

"Oh,  if  I  had  that  voice,  I'd  go  break  it!"  sneered 
Scotch.  "Try  again,  Hyson,  and  you'll  get  her  so  twrsted 
that  I'll  stand  a  good  show  of  winning  her." 

So  Jenks  braced  up  and  tried  again. 

"I  say  my  heart  has  yearned " 

"Sody-water  or  magneeshy  is  good  for  heartburn," 
smiled  the  widow. 


A  Lively  Call.  135 

"Ye  gods !"  gasped  Jenks.  "I  didn't  know  she  was  so 
hard  of  hearing." 

"Oh,  sail  in  and  win  her !"  chuckled  the  little  professor. 
"You're  doing  first  rate." 

"Mrs.  Cobb,"  continued  Jenks,  "I  am  not  much  given 
to  the  follies  of  life.  I  am  a  very  grave  man " 

"And  I  do  so  admire  a  brave  man !"  gushed  Nancy.      £. 

While  passing  through  the  village  on  the  way  to  Tad 
Jones'  home,  Frank  had  purchased  an  automatic  mouse. 
Being  wound  up,  the  mouse  would  run  swiftly  across 
the  room. 

At  this  juncture,  Frank  pointed  the  mouse  toward 
Nancy,  and  let  it  go,  at  the  same  time  giving  a  squeak, 
which  both  professors  distinctly  heard. 

Nancy  saw  the  mouse  coming,  and  she  uttered  a  wild 
shriek  of  terror,  clutching  Professor  Jenks  around  his 
slender  neck. 

"Save  me!  Save  me  from  that  terrible  beast!"  she 
squawked. 

It  happened  that  the  professor  was  quite  as  scared  of 
a  mouse  as  Nancy  could  be,  and  he  broke  away  and 
jumped  up  on  a  chair,  squealing: 

"Murder!    We'll  all  be  bitten!" 

In  a  most  remarkably  skillful  manner  the  widow" 
sprang  up  to  the  top  of  the  center-table,  where  she  stood, 
in  a  stooping  position,  her  head  against  the  ceiling. 

"Who's  scared  of  a  mouse !"  sneered  Professor  Scotch, 
as  he  gave  chase  to  the  toy,  which  bumped  against  various 
pieces  of  furniture,  and  so  kept  dodging  about. 

Under  the  chair  on  which  Jenks  stood  ran  the  mouse. 
Scotch  knocked  the  chair  over,  and  Jenks  uttered  a  wild 
.shriek  as  he  came  down  astride  the  little  professor's  neck. 
Then  both  rolled  against  the  center-table,  which  was  up 
set. 


i}6  A  Lively  Call. 

Down  came  Nancy,  like  a  balloon,  nearly  smothering 
the  two  professors,  upon  whom  she  alighted. 

This  was  too  much  for  Tad  Jones,  who  burst  into  a 
shriek  of  laughter,  jumped  out,  and  extinguished  the 
light,  and  shouted: 

"Skip,  fellows— skip !" 

Frank  and  Hans  lost  no  time  in  leaving  their  places  of 
concealment  and  hustling  out  of  the  room,  abandoning 
the  two  professors  to  their  fate. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SKATING    FOR     HONORS. 

"I  nefer  seen  der  peat  uf  dot  alretty  yet,"  declared 
Hans,  as  he  and  Frank  were  hurrying  back  to  the  acad 
emy.  "Uf  dot  don'd  peen  der  piggest  racket  vot  nefer 
vos,  you  dunno  vot  I  vos  talkin'  apout." 

"If  it  is  found  that  we  know  anything  about  it,  we  will 
be  sure  to  get  into  trouble,"  said  Frank.  "Should  any 
body  question  you,  why  you  must  be  ignorant  as  a  mule." 

"You  pet  me  your  life  I  vos.  I  vill  peen  ignorand  as 
a  clam." 

But  it  seemed  that  the  professors  did  not  suspect  that 
any  of  the  academy  boys  had  been  present,  and  so  no  in 
quiries  were  made  in  the  school. 

Tad  Jones,  however,  was  accused  of  having  some  of 
his  village  chums  in  the  scrape,  and,  when  he  refused 
to  tell  their  names,  he  was  soundly  strapped  by  his  father, 
who  had  sincerely  hoped  one  of  the  professors  would  pro 
pose  to  Nancy  and  take  her  away  without  delay. 

Just  how  the  rival  professors  had  escaped  was  not 
known,  but,  if  possible,  the  coldness  between  them  was 
more  pronounced  than  ever.  The  feud  seemed  of  a 
deadly  nature,  and  some  of  the  boys  declared  that  Jenks 
and  Scotch  were  certain  to  fight  a  duel  over  Nancy  sooner 
or  later. 

The  following  Saturday  was  fine,  and  that  afternoon 
large  numbers  of  the  boys  from  the  academy  sought  the 
village  pond,  where  the  skating  was  excellent. 


138  Skating  for  Honors. 

By  mid-afternoon  there  were  between  two  and  three 
hundred  skaters  on  the  long  pond,  while  half  as  many 
spectators  were  gathered  on  the  shore. 

It  was  a  lively  and  pleasant  scene.  Inza  Burrage  was 
there,  with  her  chosen  companion,  May  Blossom.  Inza 
was  a  beautiful  skater,  and  so  was  much  sought  as  a  com 
panion  by  the  boys.  Three  times  did  Frank  approach 
her  to  ask  her  to  skate  with  him,  and  each  time  he  saw 
her  carried  off  by  some  one  else. 

She  was  in  a  coquettish  mood  that  day,  and  her  merry 
laughter  as  she  skated  away  each  time  proved  rather  tan 
talizing  to  Frank,  who  finally  muttered : 

"All  right ;  two  can  play  at  that  game." 

It  was  almost,  if  not  quite,  May  Blossom's  first  attempt 
at  skating,  and,  although  she  was  doing  very  well,  her 
company  was  not  in  such  demand  as  that  of  Inza. 

Seeing  May  alone,  Frank  immediately  skated  to  her 
side,  and  he  was  soon  doing  his  best  to  instruct  her  in  the 
correct  handling  of  her  feet.  They  seemed  quite  ab 
sorbed  in  each  other's  company,  and  not  even  Inza's  ring 
ing  laugh,  as  she  sped  past  with  Paul  Rains,  caused  either 
of  them  to  glance  up. 

At  first  Inza  had  not  minded  Frank's  attentions  to  May, 
but,  as  time  slipped  away,  and  they  still  clung  together, 
laughing,  chatting,  and  minding  no  one  else,  she  began 
to  grow  uneasy. 

"Oh,  she  can  have  him,  if  she  wants  him!"  muttered 
Inza,  her  cheeks  beginning  to  burn.  "There  are  any 
amount  of  other  fellows." 

That  was  quite  true,  but,  in  her  heart,  she  knew  full 
well  that  there  was  no  other  fellow  she  cared  so  much  for 
as  she  did  for  Frank  Merriwell. 

From  this  moment  she  ceased  to  enjoy  herself,  and  she 
could  not  keep  from  watching  Frank  and  May,  although 


Skating  for  Honors.  139 

she  tried  to  do  so.  She  grew  petulant,  and  those  wha 
were  in  her  company  found  her  surprisingly  crisp  and 
disagreeable. 

Whenever  she  could,  she  skated  past  Frank  and  May, 
and  she  always  laughed  as  she  did  so,  but  there  was  a 
false  note  in  her  laughter — it  did  not  seem  very  sincere. 

Paul  Rains  was  a  beautiful  skater.  He  could  cut  fancy 
figures  that  took  away  the  breath  of  the  village  boys,  and 
all  his  movements  were  graceful  and  rhythmical.  He 
could  write  his  name  with  his  skates,  and  every  letter  was 
perfect  and  clean  cut  as  if  done  with  a  pen.  It  was  not 
long  before  all  eyes  were  centered  on  him,  and  Inza  did 
not  fail  to  note  that  he  seemed  to  be  the  principal  attrac 
tion  on  the  pond. 

So  Inza  skated  a  great  deal  with  Paul,  hoping  to 
arouse  Frank's  jealousy;  but,  to  her  overwhelming  dis 
may,  after  he  began  to  skate  with  May,  Frank  seemed  to 
forget  there  was  any  one  else  on  the  pond. 

"I  believe  he  really  likes  her  better  than  he  does  me  f" 
thought  Inza.  "And  she,  knowing  all  my  secrets,  know 
ing  how  much  I  think  of  Frank,  is  doing  her  best  to  cut 
me  out !  Oh,  that  is  true  friendship !" 

She  felt  like  crying  with  vexation,  and,  once  or  twice, 
tears  did  come  to  her  eyes;  but  she  forced  them  back, 
continuing  to  skate  and  laugh. 

Arrangements  were  made  for  a  skating  contest  to  take 
place  very  soon.  One  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  village  of 
fered  a  "badge  of  honor"  to  the  swiftest  skater  on  the 
pond — the  one  who  could  win  the  race. 

Paul  Rains  entered,  as  also  did  Bartley  Hodge  and 
Sammy  Smiles  from  the  academy.  Three  village  boys 
entered. 

Then  Hodge  sought  Frank,  saying : 

"Come,  old  man,  we  want  you  in  this  race." 


140  Skating  for  Honors. 

"Oh,  I  am  busy,"  laughed  Frank,  noticing  that  Inza 
was  near,  although  he  did  not  glance  in  her  direction.  "I 
am  teaching  Miss  Blossom  to  skate,  and  she  is  getting  on 
famously." 

"Well,  I  think  she  will  excuse  you  a  few  minutes.     You 
••may  go  on  with  your  lessons  after  the  race." 

"Oh,  say,  can't  you  get  along  without  me  ?" 

"Can't  anyway;  you  must  come  along." 

"Well,  if  I  must,  I  must,"  murmured  Frank,  with  mock 
distress.  "I  will  see  you  later,  Miss  Blossom,  and  we 
will  do  our  best  to  induce  that  left  foot  to  make  the  stroke 
properly." 

So,  bowing  and  smiling,  he  left  her,  and,  in  her  heart, 
Inza  cried : 

"If  he  skates  with  her  again  this  afternoon,  I'll  be  out 
witted—that's  all !" 

As  Bart  drew  Frank  aside,  he  hastily  and  guardedly 
said: 

"You  must  go  into  this  race  to  win,  old  man.  Rains' 
friends  have  been  saying  you  would  not  dare  skate  against 
him,  and  that  he  would  have  a  walk-over  if  you  did." 

Frank's  teeth  came  together  with  a  click. 

"Is  that  so !"  he  exclaimed.  "Well,  they  may  be  right ; 
but  we'll  see." 

i '     That  was  quite  enough  to  put  him  on  his  mettle,  and  he 
lost  no  time  in  entering-  for  the  race. 

A  short  time  later  the  seven  contestants  were  drawn  up 
in  line,  waiting  the  signal. 

One  mile  up  the  pond  a  rock  reared  its  head  from  the 
ice,  where,  at  low  water,  there  was  a  tiny  rocky  island. 
Every  contestant  was  to  "turn  the  rock"  and  skate  back  to 
the  starting  point,  making  a  race  of  two  miles  in  two 
long,  straight  stretches. 

The  gentleman  who  had  offered  the  badge  of  honor 


Skating  for  Honors.  141 

stood,  pistol  in  hand,  ready  to  give  the  signal.     The  con 
testants  leaned  forward  for  the  start. 

"Ready!" 

Muscles  were  drawn  taut,  nerves  were  tingling. 

"One !  two !  three !"— Bang ! 

1     Away  darted  the  skaters,  and  the  race  had  begun. 
J     A  cheer  went  up  from  the  spectators. 

Paul  Rains  took  the  lead  at  the  very  start,  for  he  seemed 
to  jump  away  at  astonishing  speed,  while  the  others  were 
gathering  headway. 

"Rains  has  a  snap  this  time,"  declared  one.  "Merriwell 
may  be  able  to  take  the  honors  at  jumping,  but  he  won't 
be  in  this  kind  of  a  contest." 

"Jist  wait  a  whoile  an'  see  about  thot,  me  b'y,"  said 
Barney  Mulloy,  who  had  overheard  the  remark.  "Frankie 
is  as  full  av  surproises  as  a  horrunet's  nest  is  full  av 
stings." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

SKATING    FOR    I,  I  F  E  . 

'During  the  entire  first  half  of  the  course  there  were 
four  of  the  seven  contestants  who  made  a  good  showing. 
These  were  Rains,  Merriwell,  Hodge  and  one  of  the  vil 
lage  boys. 

Through  it  all  Rains  kept  the  lead,  but  the  village  lad 
was  second  until  the  turning  point  was  nearly  reached. 
Then  Merriwell  settled  down  to  business  and  took  second 
place,  while  Hodge  pushed  the  village  boy  hard. 

Rains'  heart  was  full  of  triumph.  Over  and  over  he 
told  himself: 

"At  last  I  have  found  something  at  which  I  can  defeat 
Merriwell  fairly!" 

Rains  believed  he  was  safely  in  advance,  and  this  de 
lusion  was  not  broken  till  the  last  half  mile  of  the  course 
was  struck.  Then  he  heard  somebody's  skates  ringing 
close  behind,  and,  looking  over  his  shoulder,  he  saw 
Frank  bearing  down  on  him  like  the  wind. 

Paul's  heart  gave  a  great  leap. 

"By  Jove !"  he  breathed.  "That  fellow  means  to  press 
me !  But  he  shall  not  come  in  first — he  shall  not !" 

Then  he  strained  every  muscle,  and,  for  a  few  seconds, 
the  distance  between  them  did  not  seem  to  diminish. 

Frank,  however,  held  steadily  to  that  terrible  speed,  and 
Paul  began  to  fear  he  could  not  stand  it  to  the  finish,  for 
his  head  was  beginning  to  grow  unsteady,  and  there  was 


Skating  for  Life.  143 

a  wild  roaring  in  his  ears.  Through  a  bluish  mist  he  saw 
the  great  crowd  on  the  shore  near  the  starting  point,  and 
he  knew  the  eyes  of  hundreds  were  upon  the  contestants. 

"I'll  die  before  he  shall  pass  me !"  thought  Rains. 

And  then,  once  more,  he  heard  the  skates  of  his  rival 
ringing  clear  close  at  his  elbow.  One  wild  look  he  cast 
over  his  shoulder,  and  there  was  Merriwell,  fearfully 
near — and  gaining ! 

Paul's  heart  rose  with  a  bursting  sensation  into  his 
throat.  He  had  seen  that  Merri well's  face  bore  a  look  of 
determination — nay,  more,  a  look  of  confidence. 

Oh,  for  the  power  to  hold  out  to  the  end!  Again  he 
forced  himself  to  spurt ;  but,  as  that  mad  burst  of  energy 
slackened,  he  felt,  rather  than  saw,  his  rival  reach  his 
side. 

Now  a  great  cheer  broke  from  the  crowd  of  excited  and 
delighted  spectators,  for  the  two  boys  were  fairly  abreast, 
and  neither  seemed  able  to  gain  another  inch  on  the  other. 

Rains  had  shut  his  teeth,  his  nostrils  were  dilated,  and 
his  eyes  wild  in  their  sockets.  The  finish  line  was  near, 
and  he  must  cross  it  in  advance — a  yard,  a  foot,  an  inch ! 

But  he  little  knew  that  Frank  Merriwell  had  reserved 
for  the  last  supreme  moment  enough  strength  to  make  a 
final  spurt. 

Now — now  is  the  time  for  one  or  the  other  to  forge 
ahead ! 

Another  shout  goes  up : 

"Merriwell !  Merriwell !     He's  the  winner !     Hurrah !" 

Frank  had  forged  to  the  front ;  but,  even  as  the  cheer 
came  from  the  crowd,  he  was  seen  to  be  flipped  into  the 
air,  as  if  he  had  struck  a  spring-board,  and  he  came  down 
heavily  on  the  ice.  There  was  no  time  to  recover. 

Frank  slid  over  the  starting  line,  prostrate  on  the  ice; 


/44  Skating  for  Life. 

but  Paul  Rains  crossed  it  upright,  and  at  least  three  yards 
in  advance. 

Rains  had  won ! 

An  accident  had  prevented  Frank  from  winning,  for  his 
skate  had  struck  a  flaw  in  the  ice,  and  he  had  been  thrown 
with  stunning  force. 

Great  was  the  excitement.  Merriwell  was  picked  up 
and  carried  to  the  shore,  where  a  dash  of  cold  water 
brought  him  round. 

Rains  was  quite  used  up  for  a  while,  but  he  soon  re 
covered.  His  friends  crowded  round  him  to  offer  con 
gratulations. 

"You  beat  Merriwell  this  time,  Paul/'  they  said. 

"But  he  fell,"  said  Paul,  bitterly.  "That  makes  the  vic 
tory  anything  but  satisfactory.  However,  I  will  race  him 
again  at  any  time  and  any  place." 

Little  did  he  think  how  soon  they  would  race  again. 

Within  a  short  time  after  the  finish  of  the  race,  a  sud 
den  cry  of  alarm  and  terror  went  up  from  the  throng. 

"Look — look  there!  Two  girls  have  broken  through 
the  ice !  They  will  be  drowned !" 

At  a  certain  point  in  the  pond  there  was  a  dangerors 
bit  of  ice,  where  some  springs  deep  down  at  the  bottom 
continually  bubbled  up  and  kept  the  water  alive,  so  the  ice 
did  not  form  solidly.  It  was  supposed  that  every  one 
knew  where  this  dangerous  spot  was,  so  no  sign  had  been 
placed  there. 

Now,  however,  two  girls  had  ventured  upon  it,  and 
broken  through. 
"Who  are  they?" 

"Inza  Burrage  and  May  Blossom !" 
"Save  them  !  save  them !" 
Several  started  toward  the  imperiled   girls,   but  two 


Skating  for  Life.  145 

forms  darted  out  ahead  of  the  rest,  and  another  race  be 
tween  Paul  Rains  and  Frank  Merriwell  had  begun. 

This  time  it  was  a  race  for  life. 

Shoulder  to  shoulder  they  started,  and,  for  some  sec 
onds,  they  kept  thus. 

Then  Frank  began  to  forge  ahead,  for  all  that  Paul  was 
straining  every  muscle — was  doing  the  very  best  that  he 
could  to  save  life. 

The  girls  were  seen  clinging  to  the  broken  edge  of  the 
ice,  which  broke  beneath  them  once  or  twice,  but  they 
managed  to  keep  up  in  some  way. 

Wider  and  wider  grew  the  distance  between  Merriwell 
and  Rains,  showing  that  the  former  was  by  far  the  faster 
skater  in  such  a  case  as  this. 

As  Frank  drew  near  the  girls,  the  ice  broke  again,  and 
both  went  under. 

He  did  not  slacken  speed,  but,  taking  care  to  avoid 
them,  skated  straight  into  the  water. 

Clinging  to  each  other,  the  girls  came  up ;  but  they 
would  have  sunk  again  immediately  if  he  had  not  been 
there  to  clutch  them. 

Treading  water,  he  held  them  up,  getting  close  to  the 
ragged  edge  of  the  ice. 

The  water  was  fearfully  cold,  but  he  managed  to  keep 
his  head  out,  knowing  aid  must  come  quickly. 

Paul  Rains  slackened  his  speed  as  he  came  near  the 
opening  in  the  ice. 

"Form  a  line — get  hold  of  my  feet !"  he  shouted. 

Down  upon  his  stomach  he  went,  and  he  slid  forward 
till  he  could  reach  out  and  grasp  one  of  the  girls. 

There  he  lay  till  another  lad  clutched  his  feet,  and  still 
others  grasped  the  feet  of  the  one  who  had  hold  of  Paul. 

"Now,  Merriwell,"  said  Paul,  "if  you  can  break  their 
clutch  on  each  other,  we  can  take  'em  out  one  at  a  time." 


146  Skating  for  Life. 

With  some  difficulty  the  grasp  of  the  half -drowned 
girls  was  broken.  Paul  held  fast  to  one,  and  shouted: 

"Pull  away !" 

He  was  drawn  backward,  and  the  girl  was  dragged 
from  the  water  upon  the  ice. 

Quickly  she  was  passed  to  some  one  who  carried  her 
away  to  a  place  of  warmth  and  safety,  while  Paul  Rains 
crept  back  to  the  opening,  and  the  other  girl  was  res 
cued  in  a  similar  manner.  Then  Frank,  nearly  exhausted, 
was  drawn  out. 

With  Rains  on  one  side,  and  Hodge  on  the  other,  Frank 
skated  back  to  the  shore,  where  the  great  crowd  of  specta 
tors  had  witnessed  the  gallant  rescue.  How  the  crowd 
cheered  and  flung  up  their  hats ! 

"Hurrah  for  Frank  Merriwell !"  was  the  roar  that  went 
up.  "Hurrah !" 

"Hurrah  for  Paul  Rains !     Hurrah !" 

The  man  who  had  offered  the  badge  of  honor  grasped 
the  two  lads  by  the  hands,  crying : 

"You  shall  both  have  a  badge  of  honor !  This  is  true 
heroism,  and  you  are  both  heroic  lads !" 

"Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah !"  thundered  the  crowd. 

Let  us  add  here  that  neither  Inza  nor  May  suffered  any 
particularly  ill  results  from  their  plunge  through  the  ice. 

Between  Inza  and  Frank  the  slight  misunderstanding 
was  easily  adjusted,  and  May,  in  her  innocent  little  heart, 
had  never  dreamed  of  "cutting  out"  her  friend.  She  and 
Paul  Rains  afterward  became  very  friendly. 

Between  Frank  and  Paul  a  rivalry  continued  to  exist ; 
but,  for  the  most  part,  it  was  of  a  healthy,  generous  sort, 
and  Merriwell  retained  his  position  as  leader,  having  be 
come  more  popular  than  before  among  the  better  class  of 
boys  at  the  academy. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE     SINISTER     STRANGER. 

"Boy,  where  did  you  get  that  ring?" 

Frank  Merriwell  started  and  looked  quickly  at  the  man 
who  had  hoarsely  hissed  the  question  in  his  ear.  At  a 
glance  he  saw  that  the  man  was  a  stranger  in  Fardale 
village. 

The  stranger  was  dressed  in  black  clothes,  wore  a  cloak, 
with  a  cape,  and  had  the  brim  of  his  hat  slouched  over  his 
eyes,  which  were  coal-black  and  piercing.  He  had  a 
heavy  black  mustache  and  imperial,  which  gave  him  a 
rather  savage  expression,  and,  withal,  he  made  a  some 
what  sinister  figure. 

The  night  mail  at  Fardale  was  not  delivered  at  the 
academy  till  the  following  morning,  and  Frank  had  come 
to  the  village  post  office  late  that  afternoon  to  obtain  an 
expected  letter  from  home,  if  it  had  arrived. 

He  had  also  hoped  that,  on  his  way  to  the  post  office,  or 
in  returning  to  the  academy,  he  might  catch  a  glimpse  of 
Inza.  Frank  was  now  a  welcome  visitor  at  Inza's  home, 
but,  being  governed  by  natural  tact  and  delicacy,  he  did 
not  wish  to  call  too  frequently,  fearing  Inza's  parents 
might  regard  him  as  something  of  a  bore. 

Shortly  after  entering  the  village  he  had  noticed  the 
stranger  in  black,  who  seemed  to  be  staring  wonderingly 
at  the  boy.  To  Frank's  surprise,  this  man  followed  him 
about. 


The  Sinister  Stranger. 

Finally  the  stranger  slipped  softly  to  Frank's  side,  and 
hoarsely  whispered  the  question  with  which  this  chapter 
opens.  At  the  same  time,  he  pointed  to  a  peculiar  ring 
which  Merriwell  wore  on  the  third  finger  of  his  left  hand. 

Frank  drew  back,  looking  the  man  over  from  head  to 
feet. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  said,  in  a  manner  that  was 
intended  to  repulse  further  advances. 

But  the  man  was  not  to  be  choked  off  thus  easily. 

"The  ring,"  he  repeated.  "I  asked  you  where  you  ob 
tained  it." 

"I  know  you  did,"  said  the  boy,  coolly. 

"Answer  me!"  sibilated  the  stranger,  his  brows  darken 
ing  beneath  the  wide  brim  of  the  hat,  and  a  gleam  of  fire 
showing  in  his  eyes.  "Tell  me  the  truth,  boy !" 

"I  don't  know  why  I  should  answer  you,"  said  Frank. 
"I  do  not  know  you,  and  I  do  not  understand  what  right 
you  have  to  ask  me  such  a  question." 

The  man  in  black  bit  his  lip,  and  hesitated.  After  a 
moment,  he  forced  a  smile  that  was  far  from  agreeable  to 
see,  although  he  plainly  meant  that  it  should  reassure  the 
boy,  and,  in  a  low  tone,  he  rapidly  said : 

"That  ring  is  very  odd,  and  it  attracted  my  attention 
for  that  reason.  I  am  a  great  collector  of  curios,  and  es 
pecially  of  quaint  and  curious  rings.  I  have  traveled  the 
world  over  in  search  of  the  quaint  and  curious,  and  I  have 
a  collection  of  nearly  five  hundred  rings  of  all  patterns, 
makes  and  values.  This  collecting  of  rings  has  become  a 
fad,  or  mania,  with  me.  Whenever  I  see  an  odd  or  pe 
culiar  ring,  I  am  immediately  seized  by  a  great  desire  to 
possess  it;  but  I  always  want  to  know  its  history.  It 
enhances  the  value  of  a  ring  to  know  its  history.  I  as 
sure  you  that  some  rings  have  very  queer  histories,  in 
deed." 


The  Sinister  Stranger.  149 

Frank  watched  the  man  closely  as  he  was  speaking, 
and,  although  it  was  plain  that  the  stranger  was  trying  to 
secure  the  boy's  confidence,  Merriwell  continued  to  re 
gard  him  with  suspicion  and  aversion.  There  was  some 
thing  about  this  person's  dark  face  and  sinister  aspect  that 
was  extremely  repulsive  to  the  lad.  « 

Once  more  the  man  smiled,  as  if  making  a  desperate 
attempt  to  thaw  the  cool  reserve  of  the  boy;  but  he  had 
begun  in  a  very  poor  way,  for  Frank  remained  cold  and 
distant. 

"Some  of  my  rings,"  went  on  the  man  in  black,  "have 
tales  of  bloodshed  and  murder  connected  with  them,  and 
these  are  interesting  in  their  way.  Some  recall  romances 
of  blighted  love  or  sundered  hearts,  and  these  tales  are 
always  interesting  to  the  ladies  who  look  over  the  collec 
tion.  Some  have  been  worn  by  great  men  or  great  ladies, 
and  some  have  encircled  the  fingers  of  great  villains  or 
great  criminals.  You  should  understand  why  I  desire  to 
know  the  history  of  every  ring  that  comes  into  my 
possession." 

"Well,"  said  Frank,  quietly,  "as  there  is  not  the 
slightest  possibility  that  you  will  ever  possess  this  ring, 
you  can  have  very  little  interest  in  its  history." 

The  stranger  fell  back  a  step,  and  then,  with  one  hand 
eagerly  outstretched,  he  exclaimed: 

"You  will  sell  it  for  a  good  price — of  course  you  will  ?" 

"No." 

"Why,  its  real  value  is  insignificant!" 

"It  is  valuable  to  me." 

"No  jeweler  will  give  you  more  than  three  or  four 
dollars  for  it — possibly  five." 

"Well?" 

"I  will  give  you  ten  dollars  for  that  ring." 


150  The  Sinister  Stranger. 

"It  is  useless  for  you  to  offer  me  money  for  it,  as  I  do 
not  intend  to  sell  it." 

Frank  turned  as  if  he  would  move  away,  but  he  felt  a 
hand  clutch  his  shoulder  with  a  grasp  of  iron,  while  the 
voice  of  the  stranger  almost  snarled : 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  boy !  I  want  that  ring,  and  I  mean 
to  have  it  at  some  price.  I  will  give  you  twenty-five  dol 
lars  for  it." 

"Take  your  hand  off  my  shoulder,  sir !" 

"I'll  give  you  thirty  dollars." 

"Take  your  hand  off  my  shoulder,  sir !" 

"Forty  dollars !" 

"I  have  warned  you  twice  to  take  your  hand  off  my 
shoulder,"  came  coldly  from  the  lips  of  the  boy,  on  whose 
face  there  was  now  a  dangerous  look.  "I  am  going  to 
warn  you  again,  and  if  you  do  not  obey,  it  will  be  the 
worse  for  you.  Take  your  hand  off  my  shoulder !" 

There  was  a  single  moment  of  hesitation,  and  then  the 
stranger  obeyed ;  but  the  look  on  his  face  was  not  pleas 
ant  to  see,  and  he  hoarsely  said : 

"You  are  showing  a  great  deal  of  authority  for  a 
stripling.  These  military  schools  spoil  boys  like  you  by 
making  them  think  they  are  men  before  the  fuzz  grows 
on  their  faces." 

There  was  no  doubt  in  the  lad's  mind  but  he  was  deal 
ing  with  a  desperate  man,  and  Frank  fully  realized  that 
he  had  thoroughly  aroused  the  stranger's  anger.  But 
Frank  could  not  be  bullied,  and  the  man  in  black  was 
very  repulsive  to  him,  for  some  reason. 

Once  more  the  boy  started  to  walk  away ;  but  the  man 
was  quickly  at  his  side,  where  he  kept,  again  attempting 
to  be  persuasive,  although  it  was  plain  that  he  longed  to 
throttle  the  lad. 

"What  is  the  use  of  being  unreasonable !    I  am  willing 


The  Sinister  Stranger.  151 

to  do  the  square  thing.  I  have  made  you  a  magnificent 
offer  for  that  ring,  which  I  am  anxious  to  possess." 

"Far  too  anxious,"  muttered  Frank. 

"That  is  natural,"  declared  the  man,  swiftly.  "Did  you 
ever  collect  stamps?  If  you  have,  you  should  know 
something  of  the  mania  that  seizes  upon  a  collector.  It 
is  thus  with  me.  If  I  see  an  odd  ring  I  cannot  obtain,  I 
feel  as  if  I  had  been  robbed  of  something  that  rightfully 
belongs  to  me." 

He  paused  a  moment  in  his  talk,  but  Frank  walked 
straight  onward,  saying  nothing. 

"I  have  offered  you  a  ridiculous  price  for  that  ring," 
continued  the  man.  "I  cannot  afford  it,  but  my  mind  is 
set  on  having  the  ring.  Already  I  have  spent  a  fortune 
in  my  collections,  and  the  time  has  come  when  I  cannot 
fling  money  freely  to  the  winds.  Come  now,  young  man, 
have  a  little  sympathy  with  me,  and  sell  me  that  ring." 

Under  certain  circumstances  these  words  might  have 
melted  Frank,  who  was  not  a  cold-blooded  lad,  by  any 
means ;  but  there  was  something  in  the  stranger's  villain 
ous  aspect  and  repulsive  manner  that  had  turned  the  boy 
against  the  man  in  black  and  caused  him  to  remain  ob 
durate. 

"I  told  you  at  first  that  it  was  useless  to  offer  me 
money  for  this  ring,"  said  the  boy.  "I  think  you  will 
begin  to  understand  that  I  meant  it." 

"At  least,  you  will  tell  me  how  it  came  in  your  posses 
sion?" 

Frank  hesitated.  Surely  there  could  be  no  harm  in 
telling  this,  and  it  might  enable  him  to  get  rid  of  the 
stranger,  so  he  said: 

"It  was  given  to  me  by  my  mother." 

"And  your  mother — how  did  she  obtain  it?"  swiftly 
asked  the  stranger. 


152  The  Sinister  Stranger. 

"My  father  gave  it  to  her.  I  do  not  know  how  it  came 
into  his  possession." 

"Your  father  and  mother " 

"Are  dead." 

"Ha !  And  you  prize  the  ring  because  it  was  a  present 
from  your  mother  ?" 

"That  is  one  reason." 

"And  there  is  another?" 

"Yes." 

"What?" 

It  suddenly  struck  Frank  that  he  was  talking  alto 
gether  too  much,  and  so  he  answered : 

"I  decline  to  say.  I  have  already  told  you  enough,  and 
I  beg  you  to  excuse  me.  We  will  part  here." 

"First  answer  one  more  question.  What  was  your 
father's  name?" 

"Charles  Conrad  Merriwell." 

The  man  in  black  put  a  hand  to  his  eyes,  and  seemed 
to  be  thinking  for  a  moment.  Beneath  his  breath  he 
muttered : 

"Merriwell,  Merriwell — I  do  not  know  the  name." 

Then,  dropping  his  hand,  he  said : 

"I  will  make  you  one  more  offer  for  the  ring.  I  will 
'give  you  fifty  dollars  for  it.  See — here  is  the  money. 
Don't  be  foolish — take  it!  You  will  never  receive  an 
other  such  offer." 

He  had  pulled  out  some  bills,  from  which  he  quickly 
selected  a  fifty-dollar  bank-note,  which  he  tendered  to 
Frank. 

The  boy  drew  away. 

"You  are  wasting  your  time  in  offering  me  money  for 
the  ring.  I  am  in  earnest  in  declining  to  sell  it.  Good- 
day,  sir." 

He  turned  and  walked  swiftly  away. 


The  Sinister  Stranger.  153 

The  uaffied  man  in  black  stood  staring  after  the  lad, 
his  forehead  lowering  and  his  white  teeth  showing  a  bit 
through  his  dark  mustache. 

"Refuse  to  sell  the  ring!"  he  grated,  madly.  "All 
right !  I  am  not  defeated.  I  will  have  it  within  a  week !" 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  THE  RING. 

Frank  did  not  glance  back  till  he  turned  onto  another 
street,  and  then  he  saw  the  man  in  black  standing  quite 
still  where  they  had  parted.  The  reddish  glow  of  the  sun 
set  was  behind  the  man,  on  which  his  black  figure  stood 
out  like  a  silhouette,  the  cloak  and  cape  making  him 
slightly  resemble  a  gigantic  bat. 

The  boy  shivered  a  little  as  he  passed  beyond  the  view 
of  the  mysterious  stranger. 

"That  man  makes  my  blood  cold,"  he  murmured. 
"There  is  something  decidedly  awe-inspiring  about  him. 
Somehow,  I  do  not  believe  I  have  seen  the  last  of  him." 

Frank  was  right;  he  had  not  seen  the  last  of  the  man 
in  black. 

Thinking  of  what  had  happened,  Frank  soon  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  man  was  mad,  or  else  there  was 
some  mystery  about  the  ring  that  was  not  known  to  the 
possessor. 

Why  had  the  stranger  been  so  desirous  of  knowing  how 
the  ring  came  into  Frank's  possession  ? 

True  he  had  said  that  he  always  wished  to  know  the 
history  of  such  rings  as  he  collected ;  but  Frank  had  re 
fused  distinctly  to  sell  the  ring,  and  still  the  man  had 
seemed  very  desirous  of  obtaining  information  concern 
ing  it. 

Why  had  he  asked  the  name  of  Frank's  father? 


The  Mystery  of  the  Ring.  155 

These  questions  presented  themselves  to  the  boy  for 
consideration,  and  he  remembered  how,  on  hearing1  the 
name,  the  stranger  had  confessed  that  it  was  unfamiliar 
to  him. 

Frank  was  thinking  deeply  of  these  things,  when  a 
familiar  voice  called : 

"Hello,  Frank!  Are  you  going  past  without  speak 
ing?" 

He  started  and  looked  up,  finding  himself  in  front  of 
Inza's  home.  It  was  a  fine^  old-fashioned  house,  built 
years  and  years  ago,  and  an  iron  fence  surrounded  the 
front  lawn.  Inza  was  at  the  gate,  a  pretty  pout  on  her 
face. 

The  young  cadet  instantly  lifted  his  cap,  as  he  smil 
ingly  retorted : 

"I  did  not  see  you  there,  Miss  Burrage." 

"Oh,  bother  your  'Miss  Burrage !' "  she  exclaimed. 
"You  know  it  was  Inza  with  you  long  ago — you  prom 
ised  to  call  me  that.  No  wonder  you  didn't  see  me ;  you 
were  going  past  with  your  head  down,  your  eyes  on  the 
ground,  and  an  expression  of  profound  abstraction  on 
your  face.  What  in  the  world  were  you  thinking  of?" 

"That's  a  mystery,"  said  Frank,  approaching  the  gate. 

"Indeed!"  and  she  lifted  her  eyebrows  with  a  pretty 
assumption  of  offended  dignity.  "A  secret  from  me?" 

"I  did  not  say  it  was  a  secret ;  I  said  it  was  a  mystery. 
I  was  thinking  of  the  man  in  black." 

"Mercy!"  She  gave  a  little  shiver.  "What  is  the 
man  in  black — some  horrible  ogre  ?" 

"Well,  I  fancy  he  is  ogre  enough  to  give  you  the 
chills." 

"What  story  did  you  find  him  in  ?" 

"Oh,  I  didn't  find  him  in  a  story ;  I  met  him  in  real  life. 
I  left  him  a  few  minutes  ago." 


156          The  Mystery  of  the  Ring. 

"This  is  interesting!"  she  laughed.  "Who  is  he? 
What's  his  name?" 

"I  don't  know.    Didn't  I  say  he  is  a  mystery  ?" 

"Come,  Frank,  are  you  trying  to  tease  me  ?" 

"Not  at  all.  I  will  tell  you  all  I  know  about  this  sin 
gular  man  in  black." 

Then,  leaning  gracefully  against  one  of  the  iron  gate 
posts,  he  related  his  recent  adventure  with  the  unpleasant 
stranger.  She  listened  with  breathless  interest,  her  eyes 
growing  wider  and  wider,  and  an  expression  of  alarm 
coming  to  her  pretty  face. 

"Oh,  Frank !"  she  exclaimed,  when  he  had  finished ;  "I 
know  this  terrible  man  is  dangerous!  He  will  do  you 
harm!" 

"Oh,  I'm  not  afraid  of  that,"  declared  the  boy,  lightly ; 
"but  I  would  give  something  to  know  what  there  is  about 
this  ring  that  makes  him  so  desirous  of  possessing  it." 

He  held  up  the  ring  for  her  to  examine.  It  was  an 
oddly  twisted  band  of  gold,  looking  like  a  writhing  ser 
pent.  It  was  set  with  a  peculiar  black  stone  that  seemed 
quite  as  hard  as  a  diamond,  for  all  that  there  were  nu 
merous  marks  and  scratches  on  its  smooth  surface. 

"It  is  a  horrid  ugly  old  ring,"  declared  Inza.  "Any 
body  must  be  crazy  to  offer  fifty  dollars  for  it." 

"Unless  it  bears  some  value  that  is  not  apparent  to  one 
who  does  not  know  its  secret." 

"What  value  can  it  bear?" 

"That  is  the  mystery.  Still,  from  my  mother's  words, 
I  am  sure  my  father  prized  this  ring  highly.  When  it 
came  into  his  possession  he  was  in  Southern  California 
or  Mexico,  and  he  sent  it  home  to  my  mother  at  the  earl 
iest  opportunity,  writing  her  to  be  very  choice  of  it,  and 
not  to  lose  it  on  her  life,  as  it  was  very  valuable.  Now, 
my  father  never  revealed  the  secret  of  this  ring  to  my 


The  Mystery  of  the  Ring.  157 

mother,  if  the  ring  has  a  secret ;  but  I  am  sure  that  mother 
believed  there  was  something  mysterious  about  it,  for, 
when  she  was  dying,  she  gave  it  to  me,  telling  me  never 
to  part  with  it.  Of  course  I  will  not  sell  it." 

"Of  course  not/'  nodded  Inza;  "but  the  horrid  old 
thing  may  bring  you  trouble,  instead  of  good." 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  there  is  much  danger  of  that." 

"The  man  in  black " 

"Will  give  over  his  attempt  to  obtain  it  when  he  really 
knows  I  will  not  part  with  it  on  any  condition." 

"He  may ;  but  his  words,  which  you  have  repeated  for 
me,  make  me  believe  he  will  do  something  desperate  in 
order  to  get  possession  of  it.  You  must  look  out  for  him 
— you  must  be  on  your  guard  constantly." 

"Why,  Inza!"  laughed  Frank,  in  astonishment;  "I 
never  heard  you  speak  like  this  before.  You  really  ap 
pear  as  if  you  felt  a  foreboding  of  some  terrible  thing." 

"Perhaps  I  do,"  she  said,  very  gravely,  for  a  light- 
hearted  girl. 

Frank  looked  down  at  the  ring  on  his  hand.  Surely  it 
was  an  ugly  trifle  to  make  so  much  trouble. 

"Do  you  see  those  fine  lines  on  the  surface  of  the 
stone?"  he  asked. 

They  were  faintly  visible  to  the  naked  eye. 

"There  is  something  peculiar  about  those  lines,"  he 
said.  "This  stone  is  so  hard  that  nothing  seems  to 
scratch  it,  and  I  am  sure  those  lines  were  not  made  by 
the  ring  accidentally  striking  against  hard  objects.  They 
were  there  when  it  came  into  my  possession.  I  do  not 
think  another  line  or  mark  has  been  made  upon  it  since  I 
have  owned  it." 

"That  is  odd." 

"Odd !  It  is  remarkable.    It  makes  it  appear  that  these 


158          The  Mystery  qf  the  Ring. 

lines  were  traced  there  with  some  instrument  that  could 
mark  the  stone,  and  that  they  have  a  secret  meaning." 

"Who  knows?    Possibly  that  is  true." 

"And  it  may  be  that  the  man  in  black  can  read  their 
meaning." 

The  red  light  was  dying  out  of  the  western  sky,  and 
the  dusky  shadows  of  advancing  night  were  gathering  in 
the  village  street,  which  was  overhung  by  large  dark  elm 
trees.  Standing  by  the  gate,  the  boy  and  girl  minded  not 
the  approach  of  darkness  as  they  talked  on. 

Suddenly  Inza  uttered  a  cry  and  caught  Frank's  arm, 
pointing  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  and  excitedly 
whispering : 

"Look — look  there !  Who  is  that  man  skulking  along 
the  walk  over  there?" 

"By  Jove !  it  is  the  man  in  black !"  declared  Frank 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ATTACKED   ON    THE   ROAD. 

It  was  in  truth  the  mysterious  man  who  was  lingering 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  under  the  deeper  shad 
ows  of  the  elms.  That  he  was  watching  Frank  quickly 
became  evident,  but  he  slowly  walked  away  when  he  saw 
he  was  observed. 

"What  a  villainous-looking  creature  he  is !"  said  Inza, 
in  a  flutter  of  alarm. 

"How  could  you  tell  at  that  distance  when  it  is  so 
dark?"  half  laughed  Frank. 

"Oh,  it  was  his  general  appearance — his  black  clothes, 
and  that  strange  cloak  and  cape." 

To  himself  Frank  confessed  that  the  man  had  seemed 
rather  more  awe-inspiring  when  seen  through  the  gather 
ing  darkness  than  he  had  appeared  near  at  hand  in  the 
stronger  light  of  sunset. 

,     The  stranger  had  moved  along  the  street  till  swallowed 
iby  the  darkness  beneath  the  great  trees,  but  something 
told  the  boy  he  was  lingering  at  a  distance — watching 
and  waiting. 

Despite  his  strong  nerves,  the  boy  felt  a  cold  chill  creep 
along  his  back.  What  desperate  deed  might  not  the  mys 
terious  man  in  black  be  contemplating? 

The  girl  was  no  less  impressed. 

"Oh,  Frank !"  she  exclaimed,  looking  up  into  his  hand 
some  face;  "I  know  you  are  in  danger — I  am  sure  of  it! 
That  dreadful  creature  means  to  do  you  some  injury!" 


i6o  Attacked  on  the  Road. 

Seeing  how  distressed  she  was,  Frank  began  to  feel 
sorry  that  he  had  told  her  so  much. 

"You  are  nervous/'  he  said.  "I  shouldn't  have  told 
you  all  this  stuff  about  the  ring  and  that  man." 

Her  hand  fell  on  his,  which  rested  on  the  top  of  the 
iron  gate. 

"You  did  right  in  telling  me,"  came  softly  from  her! 
lips.  "Who  should  you  have  told  if  not  me  ?  We  ought 
not  to  have  secrets  from  each  other." 

"I  do  not  fancy  we  have  many  secrets  that  we  keep 
from  each  other,  Inza,"  he  murmured,  leaning  toward  her 
over  the  gate.  "You  know  how  I  have  trusted  you." 

"And  have  I  not  trusted  you,  Frank  ?  I  have  told  you 
all  my  delightful  little  secrets,  and  I  have  not  told  yours 
to  another  soul.  They  say  girls  cannot  keep  secrets,  but 
I  think  you  will  find  out  they  can." 

"Ah,  Inza !  you  are  not  like  other  girls." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  am !"  she  laughed.  "You  think  I  am  not, 
but  I  am.  Perhaps  I  am  a  trifle  too  old  for  my  years,  as 
papa  often  says;  but  the  terrible  dangers  you  have  res 
cued  me  from  have  been  quite  enough  to  add  something 
to  my  age." 

"In  the  face  of  every  danger  you  have  been  brave  as 
few  girls  could  have  been." 

"That's  flattery." 

"It  is  the  sincere,  honest  truth.  Do  you  think  I  would 
attempt  to  flatter  you  ?" 

"Frank !" 

Their  hands  met,  and  he  suddenly  leaned  over  the  gate 
and  kissed  her,  in  the  dusky  twilight.  She  gave  a  little 
cry,  as  of  surprise  or  dismay,  retreating  swiftly;  but 
Frank  clung  to  her  hands,  and  she  did  not  make  a  severe 
struggle  to  break  away,  although  for  a  moment  there  was 
a  playful  mockery  of  a  struggle. 


Attacked  on  the  Road.  161 

Slowly  he  drew  her  back  to  the  gate,  but  she  timidly 
held  away,  as  if  she  were  really  alarmed. 

"How  dare  you,  sir !"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  toss  of  her 
head.  "You  are  very  bold!" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  beseeched,  with  mock  hum 
bleness.  "I  will  agree  not  to  do  it  again — till  I  get  an 
other  good  chance." 

"Really!  How  sacrificing  you  are!  You  are  extremely 
free." 

"Stolen  sweets,  you  know,  are  the  best.  But  truly, 
Inza,  hadn't  I  a  right  to  that  ?" 

"A  right,  indeed !  Why,  to  use  a  slang  expression,  that 
is  cheek!" 

"Never  mind  the  cheek,"  he  said,  laughingly.  "I  prefer 
the  lips." 

And  then,  before  she  could  divine  his  intention,  he 
kissed  her  again. 

This  time  she  broke  away  in  earnest. 

"Good-night,  sir,"  she  called,  from  up  the  walk. 

"Oh,  wait  a  moment !"  he  implored.  "You  aren't  going 
to  leave  me  like  this  ?'" 

"Oh,  but  I  am." 

"How  can  you !" 

"You  are  getting  altogether  too  free." 

She  seemed  really  angry,  and  a  feeling  of  dismay  came 
over  the  lad  at  the  gate. 

"Inza!" 

She  had  paused 

"Well,  sir?" 

"Don't  go  away  angry,  please !  I  know  I  had  no  right 
to  steal  those  kisses,  but  I  am  willing  to  make  amends." 

"Oh,  you  are !"  she  said,  wonderingly,  and  it  seemed 
to  Frank  that  she  was  struggling  to  keep  back  a  burst  of 
laughter.  "How  will  you  do  it?" 


1 62  Attacked  on  the  Road. 

"If  you'll  come  here,  I  will  give  them  back  to  you." 

That  was  a  master-stroke.  A  soft  laugh  came  from 
her  lips,  and  she  returned : 

"You  are  a  saucy,  cheeky  fellow,  and  I  am  not  coming 
back.  Good-night." 

"You  are  not  angry?" 

"What's  the  use  to  be  angry  with  you !" 

"Good-night,  Inza." 

"Good-night,  Frank." 

As  he  turned  away  down  the  walk,  he  saw  her  pause 
at  the  door  and  heard  her  softly  call : 

"Frank." 

"Yes?" 

"I  don't  like  to  think  of  you  as  a  thief.  I  will  take 
those  kisses  back  some  other  time." 

Then,  with  another  ripple  of  laughter,  she  disappeared 
into  the  house. 

Frank's  heart  was  very  light  as  he  walked  airily  down 
the  street.  He  had  forgotten  the  man  in  black  for  the 
time,  and  he  whistled  a  lively  air,  thinking  of  the  charm 
ing  girl  he  had  left  a  few  moments  before. 

It  had  now  grown  quite  dark,  for  the  moon  had  not  yet 
risen;  but  there  was  a  spring-time  sweetness  in  the  air, 
which  was  not  yet  enervated  by  the  languorous  heat  of 
summer. 

Frank  passed  beyond  the  limits  of  the  village,  where 
lights  were  twinkling  from  the  windows  of  the  houses, 
and  he  swung  down  the  road  toward  the  cove  at  a  lively 
gait,  still  whistling. 

At  a  certain  point  the  road  was  lined  with  bushes,  and 
not  far  away  was  the  village  cemetery. 

Frank  had  reached  this  lonely  locality,  when,  of  a  sud 
den,  a  feeling  of  uneasiness  came  over  him.  Somehow  it 
seemed  that  he  was  in  danger. 


Attacked  on  the  Road.  163 

Then  came  a  rustle  in  the  bushes,  and,  the  following 
moment,  a  dark  form  confronted  the  lad,  blocking  his 
path. 

Frank  recoiled,  and  through  his  mind  flashed  the 
thought : 

"It  is  the  man  in  black !" 

At  the  same  moment,  the  unknown  sprang  forward 
and  clutched  the  lad,  snarling: 

"Give  me  that  ring !  I  will  have  it !  Give  it  up  peace 
ably,  or  I  will  choke  the  breath  out  of  your  body !  Don't 
shout !  It  will  be  the  worse  for  you  if  you  do !" 

Right  there  and  then  the  man  in  black  met  with  a  great 
surprise. 

Frank  grappled  with  the  stranger,  and,  for  some  mo 
ments,  they  engaged  in  a  fierce  struggle.  At  length  the 
boy  got  the  best  of  it,  and,  as  he  threw  the  man,  he  gave 
his  assailant  a  terrible  upper-cut  blow. 

Having  freed  himself  Frank  took  to  his  heels  and  ran 
down  the  road  toward  the  academy. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

I 

THE    MARKS    ON    THE    BLACK    STONE. 

Frank  fancied  he  heard  pursuing  footsteps  behind  him, 
but  the  mysterious  man  might  have  spared  himself  the 
effort  if  he  tried  to  overtake  the  lad,  for  Merriwell  almost 
flew  over  the  ground. 

The  .lights  from  the  windows  of  the  barracks  soon  ap 
peared  through  the  trees,  and  Frank  felt  relieved  when 
he  was  safely  within  the  grounds  with  the  academy  build 
ings  looming  before  him. 

A  short  time  later  he  entered  his  own  room  in  the 
"Cock-loft,"  to  find  Bartley  Hodge  sitting  with  his  feet 
on  the  table,  smoking  a  cigarette  and  perusing  an  excit 
ing  detective  story;  but  the  feet  went  down  to  the  floor 
like  a  flash,  and  the  cigarette  and  book  disappeared  with 
magical  swiftness  as  Frank  came  in. 

"Oh !"  said  Hodge,  with  a  sigh  of  relief ;  "it's  you,  is 
it,  Merriwell?  I  thought  it  might  be  an  inspector." 

Frank  laughed. 

"It  would  have  been  rather  bad  for  you  if  I  had  been 
an  inspector,  for  you  did  not  get  that  book  and  cigarette 
out  of  sight  quick  enough  to  fool  anybody,  and  the  air  is 
full  of  smoke.  You  would  have  stood  a  good  chance  for 
chevrons  next  month  if  you  had  let  cigarettes  and  novels 
alone  and  taken  a  little  more  care  to  avoid  demerit." 

"Never  mind,  old  man,"  said  Hodge,  as  he  resumed 
the  cigarette  and  brought  forth  the  detective  story  again. 


The  Marks  on  the  Black  Stone.       165 

"You'll  be  a  corporal  sure,  and  that  is  glory  enough  for 
us.  Don't  preach.  If  you  should  start  in  on  this  yarn, 
you  wouldn't  give  it  up  till  you  finished  it." 

"And  that  is  exactly  why  I  am  not  going  to  start  in. 
I  enjoy  a  good  story  as  well  as  you  do,  but  I  cannot  af 
ford  to  read  novels,  now,  and  so  I  refuse  to  be  tempted 
into  looking  into  any  of  them." 

"This  is  a  hummer,"  declared  Bart,  enthusiastically. 
"It  is  full  of  mystery  and  murder  and  all  that.  Beagle 
Ben,  the  detective,  is  a  corker!  That  fellow  can  look  a 
man  over  and  tell  what  he  had  for  dinner  by  the  expres 
sion  around  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  He  sees  through 
a  crook  as  easily  as  you  can  look  through  a  plate-glass 
window.  And  the  mysteries  in  this  story  are  enough  to 
give  a  fellow  the  nightmare.  I  wonder  why  such  mys 
terious  things  never  happen  in  real  life?" 

"Perhaps  they  do  occasionally." 

The  way  Frank  spoke  the  words  caused  Bart  to  turn 
and  look  him  over  wonderingly. 

"Hello!"  he  said.  "What's  struck  you?  You  are 
breathing  as  if  you  had  been  running,  but  you're  rather 
pale  round  the  gills." 

"I  have  had  an  adventure." 

"You  are  always  having  adventures.  You're  the  luck 
iest  fellow  alive." 

"This  adventure  is  somewhat  out  of  the  usual  order," 
declared  Frank.  "It  might  furnish  material  for  a  de 
tective  story." 

"Whew !"  whistled  the  dark-haired  lad.  "Now  you  are 
making  me  curious.  Reel  it  off  for  us." 

Then  Frank  sat  down  and  told  Hodge  the  full  particu 
lars  of  his  adventure  with  the  mysterious  man  in  black. 

A  look  of  wonder  and  delight  grew  on  Bart's  face  as 


1 66      The  Marks  on  the  Black  Stone. 

he   listened,    and,   when   the   account   was   finished,    h 
slapped  his  thigh,  crying: 

"By  Jove,  Merriwell,  this  is  great !  Why,  such  things 
do  actually  happen,  don't  they!  Why  do  you  suppose 
that  man  is  so  determined  to  obtain  possession  of  that! 
ugly  old  ring?  Do  you  actually  believe  he  is  a  collector 
of  rings,  ,with  a  mania  for  the  quaint  and  curious  ?" 

"It  is  possible,  but,  for  some  reason,  I  doubt  it." 

"So  do  I." 

"He  did  not  seem  quite  sincere  in  his  manner  of  telling 
that  story,  and  he  was  altogether  too  desperate  in  his  de 
termination  to  obtain  the  ring." 

"That's  right." 

"Besides  that,  he  wished  to  know  how  it  came  into  my 
possession,  and,  when  he  learned  my  father's  name,  he 
declared  he  had  never  heard  it  before." 

"What  do  you  make  out  of  that?" 

"Well,  it  strikes  me  that  this  man  recogni2ed  the  ring 
as  one  he  had  seen  before." 

Bart  nodded  with  satisfaction. 

"Just  the  way  I  figured  it  out,  old  man !" 

"He  did  not  seem  so  anxious  to  learn  the  history  of 
the  ring,  although  he  pretended  that  it  was  his  wish  to 
know  the  history  of  every  ring  that  came  into  his  posses 
sion.  In  this  case  he  seemed  far  more  anxious  to  dis 
cover  how  I  came  to  have  it." 

"And  so  he  must  already  know  its  history  ?" 

"Yes." 

"What  do  you  know  about  it  yourself,  Frank  ?" 

"Not  much,"  was  the  serious  reply.  "You  know  I  once 
told  you  that  my  father  was  much  away  from  home,  trav 
eling  in  the  West,  where  he  claimed  to  have  business 
interests,  and  it  was  not  till  after  his  death  that  we  knew 


The  Marks  on  the  Black  Stone.       167' 

what  his  business  actually  was — that  of  a  note  broker — • 
with  a  passion  for  gambling?" 

"Yes,  I  remember  all  this." 

"In  his  wanderings,  father  somehow  got  hold  of  that 
ring,  and  it  is  pretty  certain  that  he  considered  it  very 
valuable,  for  he  sent  it  to  mother,  and  wrote  her  to  guard 
it  faithfully,  and  not  to  let  it  part  from  her  on  any  con 
sideration.  He  said  that  he  would  come  for  it  some  day ; 
but  he  never  did.  When  mother  died,  she  gave  me  the 
ring,  telling  me  to  keep  it  always.  That  is  as  much  of 
the  ring's  history  as  is  known  to  me." 

"And  that  is  just  enough  to  make  the  thing  a  decided 
mystery.  I  have  heard  of  magic  rings  used  by  East  In 
dian  fakirs  and  magicians.  Perhaps  this  is  one  of  those 
rings." 

Frank  smiled  a  bit,  and  shook  his  head. 

"Hardly  that,  I  think,"  he  said.  "From  its  appearance, 
I  should  say  this  ring  was  made  by  some  crude  workman 
in  the  West." 

"In  that  case,  what  can  there  be  about  it  that  is  mys 
terious  or  valuable?" 

"You  have  asked  me  something  I  cannot  answer." 

"Let's  look  at  the  thing." 

Bart  held  out  his  hand,  and  Frank  removed  the  ring 
from  his  finger,  handing  it  over. 

"It  slips  off  altogether  too  easily,"  said  Hodge.  "I 
should  think  you  would  fear  losing  it." 

"It  does  come  off  easy,  and,  for  that  reason,  I  have  not 
worn  it  much  till  of  late." 

"Yes ;  I  never  noticed  it  on  your  hand  till  a  short  time 
ago." 

"I  have  kept  it  among  my  valuables." 

Hodge  looked  the  ring  all  over,  examining  it  slowly 
and  carefully. 


i  68      The  Marks  on  the  Black  Stone. 

"There  doesn't  seem  to  be  anything  about  it  to  make  a 
fellow  think  it  so  very  mysterious,"  he  said,  with  a  shade 
of  disappointment  in  his  voice. 

"No." 

"It  is  just  a  homely,  twisted  ring,  with  an  old  scratched 
black  stone  set  in  it." 

"That's  right." 

"Perhaps  the  man  in  black  is  crazy." 

"It  is  possible." 

"In  which  case  the  mystery  amounts  to  nothing." 

For  a  few  seconds  the  two  lads  sat  staring  at  each 
other.  Then  Frank  removed  a  pin  from  some  hidden 
place,  and  held  it  toward  Bart. 

"Here,"  he  said,  "take  this  and  see  how  easily  you  can 
scratch  that  stone." 

Hodge  took  it,  and  attempted  to  scratch  the  black  stone 
that  was  set  in  the  ring. 

"Why,  the  thing  is  hard  as  flint — yes,  harder !"  he  ex 
claimed.  "The  pin  will  not  leave  a  mark  upon  it,  and 
it  has  already  turned  the  point  of  the  pin  over." 

"Still,  as  you  said,  the  stone  is  scratched." 

"What  do  you  make  of  that?" 

"It  strikes  me  it  was  not  scratched  by  accident." 

Hodge  started  and  whistled. 

"Do  you  imagine  these  marks  were  made  here  inten 
tionally  and  deliberately?" 

"Doesn't  it  seem  that  way?" 

"Well,  it  is  not  impossible." 

"If  they  were  made  there  deliberately  and  intentionally, 
cut  by  some  instrument  that  could  mark  that  hard  stone, 
doesn't  it  stand  to  reason  that  the  one  who  made  them 
did  not  do  all  that  work  for  nothing  ?" 

"Of  course." 

"Then  those  marks  may  mean  something." 


The  Marks  on  the  Black  Stone.       169 

"By  jingoes !  you  are  right !" 

"This  may  be  known  to  the  man  in  black,  which  makes 
him  so  fierce  to  obtain  the  ring." 

"Sure!" 

Again  the  boys  stared  silently  at  each  other,  but  there 
were  traces  of  eager  excitement  on  the  faces  of  both. 

"How  are  you  going  to  find  out  what  those  marks 
mean,  Frank?" 

"That  is  a  question  easier  asked  than  answered." 

"Did  you  ever  examine  this  stone  under  a  misroscope  ?" 

"No." 

"Then  I  advise  you  to  do  so  without  delay.  These 
scratches  are  not  very  plain  to  the  naked  eye,  but  a  micro 
scope  may  reveal  a  great  secret  to  you." 

As  Bart  passed  the  ring  back,  Frank  said : 

"You  are  right.  My  curiosity  is  thoroughly  aroused, 
and  I  will  examine  it  under  a  magnifying  glass  at  the 
earliest  opportunity." 

"Get  leave  to  look  at  it  under  the  big  glass  in  the  ex 
perimenting  room." 

"I  will  try  it  to-morrow." 

Until  very  near  taps  the  boys  talked  of  the  mystery  of 
the  ring,  and  that  night  both  of  them  dreamed  over  and 
over  of  the  ring  and  the  sinister  man  in  black. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

BART     MAKES    A    PLEDGE. 

The  following  day  Frank  obtained  permission  to  look 
at  the  ring  through  the  powerful  microscope  belonging 
to  the  academy.  Bart  accompanied  him  to  the  experi 
menting  room,  and  they  were  soon  taking  turns  in  look 
ing  at  the  marked  stone. 

"What  do  you  make  of  it,  old  man  ?"  asked  Bart. 

"It  looks  like  a  map,"  said  Frank. 

"Right !"  exclaimed  the  other  lad.  "It  looks  like  a  map, 
and  I  believe  that  is  what  it  is." 

There  is  a  river,  or  road,  and  mountains,  something 
that  looks  like  a  lake,  and  then  a  tiny  cross.  The  cross 
must  be  a  landmark. 

"Yes;  and  you  will  note  that  it  is  at  the  end  of  what 
looks  like  a  river." 

"But  that  must  be  a  road." 

"It  is,  if  this  is  a  map,  for  it  runs  over  that  range  of 
hills,  or  mountains." 

"That  is  plain  enough." 

"And  you  will  see  there  is  a  tiny,  snake-like  thread 
that  winds  away  from  that  spot,  which  looks  as  if  it  was 
intended  for  a  lake." 

"I  see  it." 

"That  must  be  a  river,  or  stream." 

The  boys  were  now  very  excited.  All  doubts  were 
fading  from  their  minds;  the  lines  on  the  black  stone 
had  surely  been  intended  to  represent  a  map 


Bart  Makes  a  Pledge.  171 

But  what  portion  of  the  face  of  the  earth  did  it  por 
tray?  That  was  a  question  the  ring  did  not  answer. 

"Supposing  it  is  a  map,"  said  Frank,  helplessly ;  "what 
good  will  it  do  me  ?  I  do  not  know  what  it  is  a  map  of." 

"But  you  may  bet  your  last  dollar  the  man  in  black 
knows." 

"I  don't  see  how  that  is  going  to  do  me  any  good. 

"It  will  do  him  some  good,  if  he  gets  hold  of  this  ring." 

"Well,  I  shall  take  care  that  he  does  not  get  hold  of  it." 

The  map — if  it  were  a  map — on  the  stone  served  to 
more  fully  arouse  the  curiosity  of  the  boys;  without  in 
any  way  satisfying  them  concerning  the  mystery  of  the 
ring. 

Frank  became  so  absorbed  in  trying  to  discover  the 
true  meaning  of  the  map  and  in  getting  some  light  on 
the  mystery  that  he  began  to  neglect  his  studies.  This, 
however,  was  quickly  noted  by  Hodge,  who  said : 

"Be  careful,  old  man ;  don't  let  that  ring  get  into  your 
head  so  that  you  will  lose  your  chance  of  standing  well 
up  in  your  class.  You  are  all  right  in  drill  work,  and 
you  should  be  appointed  a  corporal  next  month." 

"Hang  the  old  ring !"  exclaimed  Frank,  petulantly.  "I 
never  had  anything  cause  me  so  much  bother  before. 
Whenever  I  try  to  study  I  fall  to  thinking  of  it,  and  I 
dream  of  it  every  night." 

Two  days  passed,  and  nothing  more  was  seen  of  the 
man  in  black  during  that  time,  which  led  Bart  to  believe 
that  the  mysterious  individual  had  left  the  vicinity. 

"He  must  have  fancied  that  you  would  have  him  ar 
rested  for  attacking  you  on  the  road,"  said  Hodge.  "You 
are  not  likely  to  see  him  again  very  soon." 

"Don't  get  that  impression  into  your  head,"  returned 
Frank.  "He  is  not  far  away.  I  seem  to  feel  that  he  is 
lurking  near,  awaiting  his  next  opportunity." 


172  Bart  Makes  a  Pledge. 

"That's  tommy-rot!  You  have  let  this  old  ring  mix 
you  all  up.  Don't  slip  any  cogs  now,  Frank,  or  you  may 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  your  new  rival,  Paul  Rains, 
appointed  a  corporal,  while  you  still  remain  an  ordinary 
cadet." 

Frank  flushed. 

"Rains  is  not  a  bad  fellow,"  he  said.    "He  is  square." 

"He  may  seem  so  to  you,"  said  Hodge ;  "but  I  am  sus 
picious  of  any  fellow  who  has  much  to  do  with  Wat  Snell 
and  that  gang.  Frank,  it  is  a  wonder  to  me  that  you 
ever  came  to  have  anything  to  do  with  me  afterward — 
well,  yoa  know." 

"I  shouldn't  if  I  hadn't  believed  there  was  some  good 
in  you  for  all  of  appearances." 

"Thank  you,  old  man!"  exclaimed  Hodge,  with  gen 
uine  feeling.  "You  are  white  all  the  way  through,  and  I 
believe  it  is  to  you  I  owe  credit  for  still  remaining  a  cadet 
in  this  school." 

"Nonsense !" 

"There  is  no  nonsense  about  it.  You  know  I  tried  two 
military  schools  before  I  came  here,  and  I  did  not  re 
main  in  either.  I  could  not  get  along.  You  have  helped 
me  over  the  hard  places,  and  you  have  stood  by  me, 
through  thick  and  thin,  although  most  of  the  fellows  dis 
liked  me  at  first,  and  thought  you  were  foolish  in  doing 
what  you  did.  I  have  been  no  particular  aid  to  you,  but 
I  have  led  you  into  temptations  and  dangers  you  would 
have  avoided  but  for  the  fact  that  we  were  roommates 
and  friends.  In  return,  you  have  saved  me  many  bad 
breaks,  and  I  am  not  liable  to  forget.  I  did  hate  you 
most  intensely,  but  you  shall  find  that  I  can  be  as  strong 
in  my  friendships  as  I  am  in  my  hatreds." 

This  was  saying  a  great  deal  for  Hodge,  who  was 
usually  silent  and  reserved  concerning  himself.  But  Bart 


Bart  Makes  a  Pledge.  173 

knew  he  was  speaking  no  more  than  the  truth,  and  he 
felt  that  the  time  had  come  when  such  an  acknowledg 
ment  would  do  him  good. 

Frank's  generous  heart  was  touched  by  this  new  reve 
lation  of  his  friend's  nature,  and  he  grasped  Bart's  hand 
warmly. 

"If  I  have  helped  you  in  any  way,  I  am  glad  to  know 
it,"  he  said,  earnestly. 

"Well,  you  have;  and  you  have  taken  demerit  on  my 
account  without  a  murmur.  It  is  selfish  of  me  to  cling 
to  cigarettes  when  'tobacco  smoke  in  quarters'  has  been 
reported  against  us  so  many  times.  By  jingoes!  I'm  go 
ing  to  swear  off !  They  don't  do  a  fellow  any  good,  and 
they  get  an  awful  hold  on  one.  It  won't  be  easy  for  me 
to  give  them  up ;  but  I  am  going  to  do  it.  If  you  catch 
me  smoking  another  of  the  things,  you  may  kick  me  till 
there  isn't  a  breath  left  in  my  body!  That's  business, 
and  I  will  stick  to  it!" 

"Good !"  laughed  Frank.  "You  have  been  smoking  a 
good  many  of  them  lately,  and  I  have  noticed  that  you 
complained  of  your  lungs.  How  can  your  lungs  be  in 
any  condition  when  you  are  constantly  inhaling  so  much 
of  that  smoke!  I  know  of  a  young  fellow  with  weak 
lungs  who  went  into  quick  consumption,  and  the  doctors 
said  cigarettes  were  entirely  responsible.  He  smoked  a 
number  of  packages  a  day.  When  he  started  he  simply 
smoked  now  and  then,  but  the  habit  grew  on  him,  and 
at  last  he  was  unable  to  break  it." 

"I  believe  any  fellow  can  break  off  smoking  them  if  he 
has  any  will-power  of  his  own." 

"I  think  a  fellow  should,  but  you  may  not  fincl  it  as 
easy  as  you  fancy." 

"Oh,  it  will  be  easy  enough  for  me.  When  I  make  up 
my  mind  to  a  thing,  I  never  give  up/' 


174  Bart  Makes  a  Pledge. 

"Well,  I  sincerely  trust  it  will  prove  so.  Every  one 
knows  cigarettes  are  harmful.  Yesterday  I  read  in  a 
paper  about  a  boy  in  a  New  York  hospital  who  was  said 
to  have  a  'tobacco  heart'  from  smoking  cigarettes.  By  a 
tobacco  heart  it  was  meant  that  his  heart  was  so  badly 
affected  that  it  did  not  perform  its  action  regularly  and 
properly.  Sometimes  he  is  convulsed  with  terrible  pains, 
and  gasps  for  breath.  Nearly  all  the  time  he  moans  and 
begs  for  cigarettes;  but  the  doctors  say  he  must  never 
smoke  another  one  if  he  cares  to  live.  As  it  is,  if  he 
should  get  up,  his  heart  is  so  weakened  that  it  may  go 
on  a  strike  any  time  and  cause  his  death." 

"Oh,  say!"  laughed  Bart;  "that  settles  it.  Now,  I 
never  will  smoke  again.  I  mean  it — you  see  if  I  don't." 

"I  sincerely  hope  you  do.  You  may  become  one  of  the 
best  athletes  in  this  school.  Your  only  trouble  has  been 
shortness  of  breath  when  you  exercise  heavily,  and  that 
came  entirely  from  smoking.  If  you  give  it  up,  you  will 
joon  cease  to  be  troubled  that  way." 

"Well,  here's  my  hand  on  it,  and  it  is  as  good  as  set 
tled.  No  matter  how  much  I  may  desire  a  smoke  now, 
I'll  not  monkey  with  the  deadly  cigarette." 

Their  hands  met  again. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

FRANK  AND  THE  PROFESSOR. 

Frank  Merriwell  was  right  in  thinking  he  had  not 
seen  the  last  of  the  man  in  black.  On  the  third  day  after 
his  first  meeting  with  the  mysterious  stranger  he  was 
astonished,  while  ascending  the  stairs,  to  see  that  indi 
vidual  come  out  of  Professor  Gunn's  room.  Frank  paused 
on  the  flight  that  led  to  the  "Cock-loft,"  and  watched  the 
man  hurriedly  descend  the  stairs. 

"Great  Scott!"  muttered  the  young  cadet.  "That  is 
remarkable.  I  wonder  what  he  was  up  to  in  the  pro 
fessor's  room?  He  saw  me,  but  he  hustled  away  in  a 
hurry." 

For  a  moment  Frank  hesitated,  and  then  he  resolved 
to  find  out,  if  possible,  what  could  be  the  meaning  of  the 
stranger's  visit.  With  this  object  in  view,  he  descended 
the  stairs  and  approached  the  professor's  door,  on  which 
he  rapped. 

Of  late  Professor  Gunn  had  been  severely  troubled 
with  headaches,  and,  this  happening  to  be  one  of  his  bad 
days,  he  was  stopping  in  his  room,  with  his  head  bound 
up  in  a  cloth  saturated  with  camphor.  Frank  was  obliged 
to  rap  a  second  time,  and  then  the  professor's  shuffling 
step  was  heard,  and  his  cloth-bound  head  appeared  as  the 
door  opened. 

"What's  wanted?"  he  asked,  sharply.  "Can't  I  have 
any  peace  and  rest?  Speak  up — what's  wanted?" 


1 76  Frank  and  the  Professor. 

"I  have  something  to  ask  you,  professor  ?"  said  Frank, 
quietly. 

"Ah,  is  it  you,  Merriwell?  I  was  going  to  see  you 
later.  Come  in." 

Not  a  little  surprised,  Frank  entered  the  professor's 
room,  standing  cap  in  hand,  while  the  crusty  old  fellow 
seated  himself  in  an  easy  chair,  and  asked : 

"What  is  it  you  want  to  see  me  about,  young  man  ?" 

"You  were  lately  visited  by  a  stranger,  whom  I  saw 
leaving  this  room  a  few  moments  ago." 

"Yes,  sir — yes." 

"That  man  assaulted  me  on  the  highway  a  few  nights 
ago." 

"What's  that — what?  Assaulted  you?  This  is  inter 
esting — decidedly !" 

"Yes,  he  assaulted  me ;  but  I  managed  to  give  him  the 
worst  of  it,  and  got  away  without  being  harmed." 

"You  should  have  reported  the  occurrence — you  cer 
tainly  should.  That  was  the  proper  thing  to  do — the  cor 
rect  thing,  young  man.  Then  I  would  have  known  how 
to  receive  him." 

"I  thought  he  had  gone  away  from  this  vicinity,  but  it 
seems  that  he  has  not.  Now,  I  would  like  to  know  his 
name.  What  is  his  name,  professor,  please?" 

"Eh?  Ah?  His  name?  Let  me  see.  Now  that  is 
surprising — really  surprising.  I  do  not  think  he  gave 
me  his  name." 

"Did  not  give  his  name?  How  did  he  obtain  admis 
sion  to  the  building?" 

"That's  so— how  did  he?  I  hadn't  thought  of  that. 
He  was  the  smoothest  talker  I  ever  heard ;  he  didn't  give 
me  a  chance  to  ask  many  questions." 

"He  must  have  had  some  sort  of  business  with  you." 

"He  did — that  is,  he  pretended  to  have.     He  said  he 


Frank  and  the  Professor.  177 

was  here  to  recover  some  property  that  belonged  to  him 
— property  he  lost  several  years  ago." 

The  eyes  of  the  old  professor  searched  Frank's  hands 
and  rested  on  the  peculiar  ring. 

"So  that  was  his  trick — the  scoundrel!"  cried  Frank, 
repressing  his  anger  with  difficulty.  "I  presume  he 
claimed  this  ring  belonged  to  him?" 

"Well — ahem! — he  described  such  a  ring,  which  he 
said  he  had  seen  on  the  hand  of  a  student  here." 

"Exactly.  And  he  named  me  as  the  possessor  of  the 
ring?" 

"He  said  the  name  of  the  student's  father  was  Charles 
Conrad  Merriwell.  I  believe,  sir — I  am  quite  sure,  in 
fact — that  that  was  the  name  of  your  father." 

Frank  was  fully  aroused,  and  his  brown  eyes  gleamed 
in  a  way  that  showed  how  indignant  he  was,  although 
it  was  necessary  to  keep  his  feelings  suppressed  as  far  as 
possible. 

"Professor  Gunn,"  he  said,  swiftly,  "that  man  is  a 
scoundrel !" 

"Eh?  Ha!  Hum!  Severe  language.  Be  careful, 
young  man — be  cautious.  Do  not  make  a  statement  you 
cannot  stand  behind.  It  is  dangerous — very  dangerous." 

"I  can  stand  behind  every  word  I  have  said.  Why, 
\vhen  he  found  I  would  not  sell  him  the  ring,  professor, 
he  tried  to  rob  me  of  it !  That  is  not  only  the  act  of  a 
scoundrel,  but  that  of  a  desperado." 

"It  looks  bad — bad,"  confessed  the  old  professor,  who 
seemed  in  a  somewhat  nervous  and  flustered  state.  "Tell 
me  all  about  it — give  the  full  particulars  of  the  occur 
rence." 

Frank  did  so,  telling  a  straightforward  story,  to  which 
the  professor  listened  with  interest  that  was  apparent,  al- 


178  Frank  and  the  Professor. 

though  he  now  and  then  pressed  his  hand  to  his  head,  as 
if  the  pain  were  troubling  him. 

When  the  story  was  finished,  and  Frank  had  explained 
what  he  and  Bart  had  discovered  on  the  black  stone  set 
in  the  ring,  the  old  professor  showed  that  he  was  quite 
wrought  up. 

"Remarkable!"  he  exclaimed — "re-e-markable !  I  am 
surprised — I  am  puzzled.  This  man  told  a  very  straight 
story — said  the  ring  was  stolen  from  him  in  Arizona. 
He  said  it  was  very  valuable  to  him,  as  it  was  an  heir 
loom.  He  could  not  tell  how  it  came  into  your  possession 
— he  did  not  try.  All  he  wanted  was  to  recover  his  prop 
erty — that  was  all." 

"That  was  his  scheme  when  he  found  he  could  not  buy 
it  from  me.  He  did  not  attempt  to  make  you  believe  he 
was  a  collector  of  odd  rings,  professor,  for  he  knew  that 
would  do  no  good,  and  so  he  laid  claim  to  the  ring.  What 
proof  did  he  give  you  that  it  was  his  property  ?" 

"Eh?  Proof?  It  seems  as  if  he  did  give  proof  of 
some  sort,  but  really  I  don't  know  as  he  did.  He  was 
such  a  plausible  person — so  very  smooth  and  convincing. 
Why,  I  did  not  think  of  doubting  him.  But  I  know  your 
record  very  well  since  entering  the  academy,  Merriwell. 
It  is  satisfactory — quite  satisfactory.  I  do  not  think  you 
are  the  sort  of  a  lad  to  tell  a  deliberate  falsehood — no, 
sir,  no." 
N  "Thank  you,  sir." 

"That  being  the  case,  I  shall  have  to  accept  your  state 
ment — yes,  I  will  accept  it.  He  said  he  would  call  again 
to-morrow.  Let  him  come !  I  think  I  will  have  an  officer 
on  hand — he  shall  be  arrested  the  moment  he  shows  him 
self.  That's  right — that's  proper.  Hum !  ha !  Assaulted 
a  cadet  of  Fardale  Academy,  did  he  ?  Attempted  to  rob 


Frank  and  the  Professor.  179 

a  student  at  this  school,  did  he?  Well,  he  shall  be  duly 
and  properly  punished — yes,  sir." 

The  professor  had  worked  himself  up  into  a  state  of 
considerable  excitement,  seeming  to  have  forgotten  his 
headache  for  the  time.  He  got  upon  his  feet  and  went 
tramping  about  the  room  in  his  slippers,  the  heels  of 
which  had  been  trodden  down.  He  perched  his  nose- 
glasses  far  down  on  his  pointed  proboscis,  and  glared 
over  them  in  a  way  he  had  when  he  was  endeavoring  to 
appear  very  impressive  before  a  class. 

Under  other  circumstances  Frank  might  have  smiled 
at  the  figure  cut  by  the  excited  old  man,  but  he  was  now 
far  too  angry  himself  to  note  what  was  ludicrous. 

"Take  care  of  that  ring,  young  man,"  advised  the  pro 
fessor — "take  the  best  of  care  of  it.  It  may  be  more  val 
uable  than  it  appears.  There  is  certainly  something  con 
nected  with  this  ring  that  makes  it  valuable  to  this 
stranger — or  else  the  man  is  a  lunatic — yes,  sir,  a  lunatic. 
I  do  not  think  that — no,  I  do  not.  He  appeared  rational 
— he  was  quite  sane  when  he  was  here — quite  so." 

"I  have  ever  regarded  this  ring  as  simply  an  ugly  orna 
ment  that  my  father  ran  across  and  took  a  fancy  to;  but 
now  I  believe  it  must  be  something  more." 

"It  is  likely — quite  likely.  It  seems  that  there  is  a 
mystery  connected  with  the  ring.  It  may  be  solved  soon 
— very  soon.  This  stranger  must  know  a  great  deal  con 
cerning  it.  Perhaps  he  will  tell  what  he  knows — perhaps 
he  may  be  induced  to  tell." 

The  professor  said  this  in  a  peculiar  way,  that  seemed 
to  say  "strong  inducements"  would  be  held  out  to  the 
strange  man  in  black. 

Frank  had  seen  Professor  Gunn,  and  asked  his  ques 
tion,  but  the  mystery  was  deep  as  ever  when  the  boy  left 
the  professor's  room. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

SNELL   TALKS. 

Frank  was  not  the  only  one  who  had  observed  the 
man  in  black  as  that  mysterious  individual  was  depart 
ing.  Bart  Hodge  saw  the  sinister  stranger,  and  instantly 
recognized  him  from  Frank's  description. 

"Great  Scott !"  thought  Bart.  "What  can  that  imp  of 
Satan  be  up  to  here  ?" 

The  man  was  hurrying  from  the  grounds,  and  Hodge 
followed.  The  man  passed  the  sentry,  but  Bart  was  chal 
lenged. 

"See  that  man  ?"  said  the  lad,  hurriedly.  "I  am  satis 
fied  that  he  has  been  up  to  some  mischief.  I  want  tc 
follow  him,  and  see  where  he  goes." 

"You  cannot  leave  the  grounds  without  a  pass,  sir," 
said  the  sentinel,  firmly. 

"Oh,  hang  your  pass !"  cried  Bart,  warmly,  as  he  saw 
there  was  danger  that  the  man  in  black  would  escape. 
"This  is  an  exceptional  case." 

"A  sentry  knows  no  exceptions.  If  you  leave  the 
grounds,  you  will  have  to  obtain  a  pass  from  the  office." 

"But  that  man  is  a  robber — a  highwayman !  If  you 
stand  on  the  rules  of  the  academy  now,  he  will  escape, 
and  you  may  be  reprimanded." 

"I  shall  do  my  duty  as  sentinel,  sir,  reprimand  or  no 
reprimand." 

The  man  in  black  was  walking  swiftly  up  the  road  to- 


Snell  Talks.  181 

ward  the  village,  his  cape  flapping  behind  him  in  the 
wind  like  the  wings  of  a  bat.  In  a  few  moments  he 
would  disappear  from  view. 

"Hang  the  luck!"  grated  Hodge,  as  he  turned  away 
in  disappointment.  "I'd  given  something  to  follow  him 
up." 

He  was  inclined  to  be  angry  at  the  sentinel  at  first,  but 
his  friendship  with  Merriwell  had  taught  him  that  he 
should  have  forbearance  when  in  the  right,  and  should 
never  hold  a  grudge  when  in  the  wrong.  Sober  reason 
told  him  the  sentinel  had  done  no  more  than  his  plain 
duty,  so  the  feeling  of  anger  was  swiftly  banished  from 
Bart's  breast. 

"I  will  find  Frank  and  tell  him  what  is  up,"  he  thought. 

As  he  walked  swiftly  toward  the  barracks,  he  was  met 
by  Wat  Snell,  who  said : 

"Hello,  Hodge.    I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you." 

"With  me?"  asked  Bart,  in  surprise. 

Snell  had  not  been  friendly  for  some  time,  and,  of  late, 
he  had  ceased  to  speak  to  Hodge.  This  had  not  troubled 
Bart  at  all,  but  he  was  greatly  surprised  by  this  advance 
on  the  part  of  his  enemy. 

"Yes,  with  you,"  assured  Snell.  "There  was  a  time 
when  you  were  ready  enough  to  talk  with  me.  I  have 
even  known  you  to  follow  me  up  to  get  a  chance  to  have 
a  word  in  private  with  me." 

The  face  of  the  dark-haired  boy  flushed. 

"That  time  is  past/'  he  said.  "What  do  you  want  of 
me?" 

"It  is  my  turn  now.  I  want  to  have  a  word  in  private 
with  you." 

Bart  did  not  fancy  this  much.  He  knew  Snell  for  ex 
actly  what  the  fellow  was — a  sneaking,  revengeful  rascal. 
The  thought  that  he  had  ever  had  dealings  with  such  a 


j82  Snell  Talks. 

scamp  made  Bart's  cheeks  burn  and  caused  him  to  re 
gard  himself  with  no  little  contempt. 

He  did  not  care  to  be  seen  talking  privately  with  Snell, 
and  he  glanced  hastily  around,  to  see  if  any  one  was 
watching  them. 

Snell  noted  the  look,  and  an  angry  light  came  into  his 
eyes,  which  were  somewhat  too  small  and  set  so  near  to 
gether  that  they  seemed  crowding  his  nose  between  them. 

"Oh,  you  hesitate  over  it,  do  you !"  he  sneered.  "That's 
like  some  fellows  to  go  back  on  their  old  friends!  You 
won't  make  anything  by  it  in  the  end." 

"If  you  have  anything  to  say  to  me,  say  it,"  com 
manded  Hodge,  sharply. 

"Come  over  here  where  the  fellows  can't  see  us  from 
the  windows,"  invited  Snell,  beckoning  Bart  to  follow. 

But  Hodge  did  not  stir. 

"No,  sir,"  he  said,  firmly.  "If  you  have  anything  you 
want  to  say  to  me,  say  it  right  here." 

Snell  did  not  like  this.  He  came  back  slowly,  casting 
a  hasty,  doubtful  look  up  to  the  dormitory  windows. 
After  some  hesitation,  during  which  he  kicked  the  gravel 
of  the  walk  with  his  toe,  he  began : 

"There  was  a  time  when  you  didn't  like  Merriwell  any 
better  than  the  rest  of  us,  and  you  have  done  things  that 
would  put  you  in  a  pretty  bad  corner,  if  they  were 
known." 

Hodge's  brows  lowered  in  a  scowl,  and  his  nostrils 
dilated,  like  those  of  a  wild  creature  that  scents  danger. 
He  said  nothing,  but  his  steady,  piercing  gaze  made  Snell 
keep  his  eyes  on  the  ground. 

"Of  course  I  am  not  the  kind  of  a  fellow  to  blow  any 
thing  of  the  sort,"  Wat  went  on,  hurriedly.  "I  simply 
mentioned  it  by  chance.  You  seem  friendly  with  Merri 
well  now,  and  I  thought  you  might  have  forgotten." 


Snell  Talks.  18} 

"I  wonder  what  the  rascal  is  coming  at?"  thought  Bart; 
but  not  a  word  did  he  speak  aloud. 

"For  the  sake  of  old  times,  I  thought — perhaps — you 
might  do  something  for  some  of  your  old  friends — I 
didn't  know  but  you  might.  It  can't  harm  Merriwell  any 
in  particular — he'll  never  miss  it.  It  will  be  a  lift  for  me; 
and  I  can  make  it  an  object  for  you." 

Snell  was  floundering,  and  the  look  on  his  face  seemed 
to  indicate  that  he  was  growing  frightened  and  felt  like 
taking  to  his  heels. 

Of  a  sudden,  Hodge  became  curious  to  know  what  the 
fellow  had  to  say,  and  so  he  decided  to  try  diplomacy. 

"I  do  not  forget  my  friends,"  he  said.  "What  is  it  you 
want  of  me,  Snell?" 

That  gave  Wat  a  little  courage. 

"Before  I  tell  you,  Hodge,  I  want  to  say  that  you  will 
be  well  paid  if  you  help  out  a  little  in  this  matter,  and 
Merriwell  can  never  know  that  you  were  in  it.  He'll 
never  suspect  you.  You  didn't  have  any  scruples  about 
doing  something  of  the  sort  once  on  a  time." 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  demanded  Bart,  impatiently.  "Don't 
beat  round  the  bush  so  much." 

"Oh,  don't  be  in  such  a  hurry!"  fluttered  Snell, 
nervously,  far  from  feeling  fully  confident  of  Hodge. 
"There's  money  in  this.  It  will  be  twenty-five  dollars  in 
your  pocket  if  you  do  what  I  want  you  to.  Are  you 
with  me?" 

"That  depends  on  what  you  want  me  to  do.    Name  it." 

"Well,  Merriwell  has  something  that  doesn't  rightfully 
belong  to  him.  Understand  that — it  is  not  his  by  right. 
It  belongs  to  a  friend  of  mine,  who  wants  me  to  recover 
his  property." 

"Well?" 


1 84  Snell  Talks. 

"You  can  aid  me,  as  you  room  with  Merriwell." 

"Jupiter !"  thought  Bart.  "I  wonder  if  the  mysterious 
ring  is  the  piece  of  property  Snell  means  ?" 

It  was  with  no  little  difficulty  that  Hodge  held  himself 
in  check ;  but  he  did  not  wish  Snell  to  become  alarmed, 
and  so  he  quietly  asked : 

"What  is  this  piece  of  property?" 

"It  is  something  Merriwell  wears  every  day.  I  sup 
pose  he  takes  it  off  occasionally.  That  would  give  you 
your  chance.  Mind  you,  it  is  not  rightfully  his,  but  it 
belongs  to  my  friend,  so  there  is  no  harm  in  taking  it  to 
restore  it  to  its  proper  owner.  In  fact,  that  is  a  simple 
act  of  justice." 

"Why  doesn't  the  rightful  owner  recover  his  property 
in  the  regular  manner?" 

"That  might  prove  difficult,  or  even  impossible,  as  he 
would  have  trouble  in  establishing  his  claim,  and  Merri 
well  might  conceal  the  property.  It  is  not  the  value  of 
this  property  that  the  owner  cares  so  much  for ;  he  wants 
the  property  itself." 

There  was  no  longer  any  doubt  in  Bart's  mind ;  Snell 
was  speaking  of  the  ring.  The  man  in  black  had  re 
sorted  to  another  scheme  to  obtain  possession  of  that  ugly 

ornament. 

i 

With  the  greatest  difficulty,  Hodge  kept  cool  and 
placid,  as  he  asked : 

"And  you  want  me  to  steal  this  property?" 

"No,  no,  no !  It  would  not  be  stealing  it ;  it  would  be 
returning  it  to  its  proper  owner.  Can't  you  see?" 

"Well,  if  I  am  going  to  do  this  job,  I  must  know  what 
the  property  is." 

"It  is  the  ring  Merriwell  wears  when  he  is  not  in  ranks 
— the  twisted  band,  with  a  black  stone  set  in  it." 


Snell  Talks.  185 

"And  you  want  me  to  obtain  that  ring  and  give  it  to 
you?" 

"Yes." 

"For  which  I  am  to  receive  twenty-five  dollars  ?" 

"Yes.    What  is  your  answer?" 
,     "This  is  my  answer!" 

Like  a  flash,  Hodge  struck  out  straight   frem  the 
shoulder,  and  his  fist  caught  Snell  between  the  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

S  N  ELL^S    HATRED. 

Smack ! 

The  blow  sounded  sharp  and  clear,  and  Snell  quickly 
found  himself  stretched  on  the  gravel  walk.  He  looked 
up  in  a  dazed  way,  to  see  Hodge  standing  near  at  hand, 
regarding  him  with  withering  scorn. 

"You'll  pay  dearly  for  this !"  gasped  Snell,  lifting  him 
self  to  his  elbow  and  glaring  at  Bart. 

"All  right,"  was  the  hot  retort.  "I  am  willing  to  pay 
for  it.  You  may  have  taken  me  for  a  thief,  but  I  rather 
think  you  have  discovered  your  mistake." 

"You  weren't  so  honest  once  on  a  time,  not  so  very 
long " 

"What's  that?"  cried  Bart,  taking  a  threatening  step 
toward  the  fellow.  "I  was  never  a  thief,  no  matter  what 
my  other  failings  may  have  been ;  and  if  you  dare  in 
sinuate  such  a  thing,  I  will  ram  the  words  down  your 
throat!" 

"That's  all  right— that's  all  right!"  muttered  Wat, 
scrambling  up  and  getting  out  of  reach.  "I  will  report* 
this  assault." 

"Report  it,  and  be  hanged !  The  fellows  in  this  acad 
emy  admire  a  tattler!  You  will  have  a  very  pleasant 
time  if  you  report  it !" 

"It  was  seen.     Somebody  will  tell  Professor  Gunn." 

"Perhaps  so;  but  it  isn't  best  that  you  are  the  one." 


SnelPs  Hatred.  187 

"I'll— I'll  get  even !" 

"Go  ahead.  I'd  like  the  satisfaction  of  fighting  you  to 
a  finish." 

"I  will  not  fight  with  my  fists,"  blustered  Wat,  trying 
to  appear  very  fierce.  "There  are  more  deadly  weapons." 

"Name  any  weapon  you  choose.  I  will  be  only  too 
glad  to  meet  you.  I  am  a  good  pistol  shot,  and  Professor 
Rhynas  says  I  handle  the  foils  fairly  well." 

"Oh,  you're  a  regular  ruffian!"  cried  Snell,  his  chin 
beginning  to  quiver  and  his  voice  choking  with  anger 
that  brought  tears  to  his  eyes.  "I  will  not  fight  you  in 
any  way !  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  a  match  for  a  ruffian  of 
your  sort.  But  I  will  get  square  just  the  same." 

"I  presume  you  will  try  to  square  the  account  in  some 
sneaking  manner.  Well,  I  warn  you  now  and  here  that 
it  will  not  be  healthy  if  you  try  any  dirty  tricks  on  me. 
If  anything  underhand  happens  to  me,  I'll  know  who  was 
the  originator  of  it,  and  I'll  settle  with  you.  That  is  busi 
ness  !" 

With  this,  Bart  turned  to  walk  away,  noting  that  a 
great  many  of  the  cadets  were  peering  from  the  windows, 
some  of  them  grinning  with  delight. 

Snell  shook  his  fist  at  Hodge's  back,  blustering: 

"This  is  all  right — all  right,  sir!  It  is  not  necessary 
for  me  to  fight  you ;  you  are  not  on  the  same  level  with 
me." 

"No,"  muttered  the  dark-haired  boy,  grimly,  "I  have 
never  sunk  as  low  as  that." 

The  room  occupied  by  Merriwell  and  Hodge  was  not 
on  that  side  of  the  building,  so  Frank,  who  was  studying, 
had  not  witnessed  the  encounter  between  his  roommate 
and  Snell. 

Fortunately,  also,  the  blow  had  not  been  seen  by  any 


188  Snell's  Hatred. 

one  but  cadets,  so  it  was  not  liable  to  come  to  Professor 
Gunn's  knowledge,  unless  Wat  told  of  it  himself. 

Bart  found  Frank  in  their  room,  and  Merrivvell  looked 
up  as  the  dark-haired  boy  entered  with  a  quick,  nervous 
step. 

"Hello!"  he  cried,  in  surprise.  "What's  happened? 
Your  face  is  dark  as  a  thunder-cloud,  and  you  look  as  if 
you  could  eat  iron." 

"Well,  I  feel  as  if  I  wouldn't  have  any  trouble  in  chew 
ing  up  a  few  pounds  of  iron,"  replied  Bart.  "By  Jove ! 
old  man,  I  never  realized  till  a  few  minutes  ago  how 
narrow  was  my  escape  from  being  a  most  contemptible 
scoundrel !" 

"How  is  that?" 

"I  was  taken  for  a  thief !"  grated  Bart,  his  white  teeth 
clicking.  "Yes,  sir,  taken  for  a  thief !" 

"It  must  have  been  by  somebody  who  does  not  know 
you  very  well." 

"That's  where  you  are  wrong.  It  was  by  somebody 
who  knows  me  far  too  well.  That  is  why  I  feel  that  my 
escape  from  being  a  scoundrel  was  a  narrow  one." 

Had  he  not  seen  that  Bart  was  so  serious  and  thor 
oughly  in  earnest,  Frank  must  have  smiled. 

"Give  us  the  particulars,"  he  urged.  "What  did  you 
do  when  you  were  taken  for  a  thief?" 

"Knocked  the  cad  down!"  snarled  Bart,  smashing  his 
clinched  right  hand  into  the  open  palm  of  his  left. 

"That  was  very  proper,"  assured  Merriwell.  "You 
did  nicely,  my  son." 

"But  I  do  not  feel  any  the  less  humiliated.  If  I  had 
not  given  him  reason  to  approach  me  in  such  a  manner, 
he  would  not  have  ventured." 

Then  Bart  related  the  particulars  of  his  adventure  with 
Snell. 


Snail's  Hatred.  189 

"So,  so!"  muttered  Frank.  "That  rascal  is  in  this  af 
fair.  The  man  in  black  has  chosen  a  good  tool." 

"That  man  is  determined  to  have  your  ring." 

"I  should  say  so.  He  has  been  to  Professor  Gunn  and 
represented  that  the  ring  belonged  to  him."  And  then 
>  Frank  took  his  turn  to  tell  what  he  had  learned  from 
the  head  professor. 

"Well,  I  never !"  cried  Bart,  as  Frank  finished.  "Why, 
the  scoundrel  has  the  cheek  of  a  brass  monkey !  He  is 
dangerous,  Frank." 

"I  believe  you." 

"If  I  were  in  your  place,  I  would  swear  out  a  warrant 
for  his  arrest,  and  send  an  officer  after  him." 

"I  may  be  forced  to  do  so." 

"And  I  advise  you  to  keep  your  eye  on  Wat  Snell." 

"I  will  do  that." 

"In  the  meantime,  let  me  take  the  ring  long  enough  to 
make  an  enlarged  drawing  of  those  lines,  so  that  you 
will  have  the  map,  if  it  is  a  map,  even  if  you  lose  the 
ring.  You  know  my  ability  to  copy  with  pen  and  ink 
anything  I  see.  My  father  wants  me  to  become  a  civil 
engineer,  and  so  I  am  taking  a  course  to  suit  him ;  but, 
when  I  leave  Fardale,  I  mean  to  go  to  an  art  school,  and 
find  out  if  I  am  not  cut  out  for  an  artist." 

"How  can  you  make  a  drawing  of  the  lines  ?" 

"Why,  I  will  place  the  ring  under  a  microscope,  and 
then  it  will  not  be  difficult.  You  know  I  can  be  very 
accurate  when  I  try." 

"Yes,  I  know  it,  and  I  will  think  of  your  plan.  I  am 
inclined  to  believe  it  is  a  good  one.  Whether  I  should 
lose  the  ring  or  not,  I'd  like  to  have  a  copy  of  that  map 
to  study." 

"I'll  find  time  to  do  the  job  to-morrow,  if  Old  Gunn 
will  permit  us  to  use  the  microscope  again." 


190  Snail's  Hatred. 

On  the  following  day,  however,  Bart  found  no  oppor 
tunity  to  make  the  drawing. 

Frank  watched  for  the  man  in  black,  who  had  said  he 
would  call  on  Professor  Gunn  again ;  but  the  mysterious 
man  did  not  put  in  an  appearance,  and  Merriwell  waited 
his  time. 

Wat  Snell  was  forced  to  endure  no  end  of  ridicule  from 
his  companions,  as  it  was  the  rule  at  Fardale  that  a 
student  who  had  received  a  blow  or  an  insult  must  chal 
lenge  the  one  who  gave  it.  If  he  did  not  do  so,  he  was 
regarded  as  a  coward,  and  his  life  in  school  from  that 
time  was  certain  to  be  far  from  pleasant. 

In  his  heart  Snell  was  an  arrant  coward,  and  he  knew 
that  Hodge  was  really  longing  for  a  challenge.  Wat  felt 
sure  that  he  would  receive  a  severe  drubbing  at  the  hands 
of  the  dark-haired  boy  whom  he  had  angered,  and  the 
thoughts  of  such  punishment  filled  his  soul  with  horror. 

"I  can't  fight  him — it's  no  use,  I  can't !"  he  told  him 
self  over  and  over.  "He  is  a  turn-coat,  anyway !  He  did 
not  pretend  to  be  so  conscientious  till  after  he  got  thick 
with  Merriwell.  Oh,  Merriwell  is  really  the  one  who  is 
at  the  bottom  of  all  the  trouble  I  have  had  in  this  school, 
and  I  hate  him  worse  than  I  do  Hodge. 

"I'd  like  to  get  hold  of  that  ring.  Jupiter!  seventy- 
five  dollars  is  a  price  to  pay  for  an  old  ring  like  that,  but 
it's  what  that  strange  man  in  black  offered  me  to  secure 
it  for  him.  There's  something  mighty  mysterious  about 
that  ring.  I  wish  I  knew  what  the  mystery  is.  I  am 
going  to  ask  the  man  when  I  see  him  this  evening." 

That  night  Snell  escaped  from  the  building  and  the 
grounds  without  obtaining  leave.  He  was  going  to  keep 
an  appointment  with  the  man  in  black. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

PLAYING     THE     SHADOW. 

Snell  was  followed. 

Frank  had  taken  Bart's  advice  to  keep  an  eye  on  the 
fellow,  and  something  in  Wat's  actions  had  given  him 
the  impression  that  Snell  was  up  to  something  that  he  did 
not  care  to  have  generally  known. 

With  a  great  deal  of  skill,  Frank  kept  watch  of  Snell 
till  the  latter  slipped  from  the  grounds  under  cover  of 
darkness. 

It  was  a  cloudy  night,  with  the  wind  moaning  far  out 
at  sea,  and  the  waves  roaring  sullenly  along  the  base  of 
Black  Bluff,  down  the  shore. 

As  may  be  imagined,  it  was  no  easy  task  to  follow  Wat 
without  losing  the  fellow  in  the  darkness  or  getting  so 
close  that  the  "shadowed"  lad  would  discover  that  some 
body  was  watching  him. 

Although  he  was  not  aware  of  it^  Frank  possessed  a 
remarkable  faculty  for  performing  such  a  task.  He 
moved  with  the  silence  of  a  creeping  cat,  and  yet  covered 
ground  with  sufficient  swiftness  to  keep  near  Wat. 

Something  must  have  made  Snell  suspicious,  for  three 
times  he  stopped  and  peered  back  through  the  darkness, 
and  three  times  Frank  sunk  like  a  ghost  to  the  ground, 
escaping  discovery  by  his  swiftness  in  making  the  move. 

Indeed,  had  it  been  possible  for  a  third  party  to  watch 
them,  it  must  have  seemed  that  Merriwell  felt  an  intui- 


192    .          Playing  the  Shadow. 

tion  which  told  him  exactly  when  Snell  was  going  to  look 
back. 

Once  or  twice  before  they  came  to  the  road  that  led 
up  from  the  cove,  Frank  lost  sight  of  the  boy  he  was  fol 
lowing,  but  his  keen  ears  served  him  quite  as  well  as  his 
eyes. 

When  the  road  up  the  hill  was  reached  Frank  was  able 
to  follow  Wat  with  greater  ease. 

Suddenly  Snell  paused  and  whistled  three  times.  In  a 
moment  a  single  sharp  whistle  sounded  near  at  hand, 
and  then  Frank,  crouching  close  to  the  ground,  saw  a 
black  figure  come  toward  Wat  Snell. 

The  wind  that  was  moaning  over  the  sea  swept  up  the 
road  and  caused  something  to  flap  around  the  shoulders 
of  this  figure  like  a  great  pair  of  wings. 

For  all  of  the  darkness,  Frank  recognized  this  figure, 
and  he  was  seized  with  an  indefinable  feeling  of  fear  such 
as  he  had  never  felt  before. 

With  an  effort,  Frank  steadied  his  quivering  nerves, 
remaining  quiet  to  watch  and  listen. 

The  person  who  had  appeared  in  answer  to  Snell's 
signal  was  the  man  in  black,  and  he  quickly  pounced  upon 
the  boy,  like  a  huge  hawk  upon  its  prey. 

"The  ring!"  he  cried,  hoarsely.  '  "Where  is  it?" 

Wat  gave  a  low  cry  of  fear. 

"Don't!"  he  gasped.  "You're  hurting  me!  Your 
fingers  are  hard  as  iron,  and  they  crush  right  into  a  fel 
low!" 

"The  ring !"  repeated  the  man,  fiercely.    "Produce  it !" 

"I  haven't  got  it." 

"What?"  snarled  the  mysterious  stranger.  "You  have 
not  kept  your  word !  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Don't  shake  a  fellow  like  that!"  quavered  Snell. 
"You  act  like  a  madman." 


Playing  the  Shadow.  193 

"Answer  my  questions!  Why  haven't  you  kept  your 
word?" 

"Couldn't." 

"Why  not?" 

"Didn't  get  the  chance." 

"But  you  said  you  could  get  a  boy  to  assist  you — the 
fellow  who  rooms  with  this  Merriwell." 

"I  thought  I  could,  but  the  cad  went  back  on  me." 

"He  refused  to  aid  you?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  you  have  found  no  opportunity  to  get  hold  of 
the  ring  yourself?" 

"Not  yet— but  I  will,  sir,"  Snell  hastily  answered.  "All 
I  want  is  to  know  that  you  will  pay  me  as  you  agreed. 
Don't  hold  onto  my  arm  so  tight ;  I  won't  run  away." 

"Bah!"  cried  the  man  in  black,  as  he  half-flung  Wat 
from  him.  "What  beastly  luck !" 

"It  is  bad  luck,"  confessed  Snell,  falteringly.  "But  it 
isn't  my  fault.  I  have  done  my  best." 

The  man  in  black  said  nothing,  but  stood  with  his  head 
bowed,  the  elbow  of  his  right  arm  resting  in  the  hollow 
of  his  left  hand,  while  his  right  hand,  fiercely  clinched, 
supported  his  chin.  The  wind  continued  to  flap  the  cape 
about  his  shoulders. 

The  man's  attitude  and  his  silence  gave  Snell  a  feeling 
of  fear,  and  he  drew  away,  acting  as  if  he  contemplated 
taking  to  hi<s  heels,  for  all  that  he  had  said  he  would  not 
run. 

"I  do  not  propose  to  endure  much  more  of  this,"  mut 
tered  the  man,  at  length.  "I'll  have  that  ring  soon,  by; 
some  means !" 

"You  must  consider  it  very  valuable,"  said  Wat,  curi 
ously. 

"Valuable!"  came  hoarsely  from  the  lips  of  the  man 


194  Playing  the  Shadow. 

in  black.  "I  should  say  so !  If  it  were  not,  I  shouldn't 
be  making  such  a  desperate  struggle  to  get  possession 
of  it." 

The  lad  who  was  listening  a  short  distance  away, 
strained  his  ears  to  catch  every  word. 

"There  must  be  some  secret  about  the  ring?"  insin 
uated  Snell.  "The  gold  in  it  amounts  to  little,  and  the 
old  black  stone " 

A  strange  sound  came  from  the  throat  of  the  man  in 
black,  and  then,  seeming  to  fancy  that  he  had  admitted 
altogether  too  much,  he  hastened  to  say: 

"The  ring  is  valuable  to  me;  but  it  is  worth  little  to 
anybody  else." 

"I  suppose  that  is  because  nobody  else  knows  its  se 
cret?"  came  from  Snell. 

"Secret !    Bah !    It  has  no  secret !" 

But  it  was  not  easy  to  convince  Snell  that  this  was  the 
truth. 

"Then  why  should  you  go  to  such  extremes  to  get  pos 
session  of  a  wretched  old  thing  of  that  sort?"  demanded 
Wat. 

"I  have  told  you.  The  ring  belonged  to  me — was 
stolen  from  me.  It  has  been  in  our  family  a  great  length 
of  time,  and  was  given  me  by  my  father.  I  prize  it 
highly  for  that  reason.  I  do  not  know  how  it  came  into 
the  possession  of  this  Merriwell  family,  and  I  cannot 
.prove  my  claim  to  my  own  property,  so  I  must  recover 
it  in  such  a  manner  as  is  possible.  That  is  the  truth." 

Wat  said  nothing.  Somehow  he  was  doubtful,  for  it 
did  not  seem  that  anybody  who  was  sane  could  resort  to 
such  desperate  expedients  to  recover  an  ugly  old  ring 
that  had  no  particular  value  save  as  an  heirloom. 

As  for  Frank,  he  might  have  believed  the  strange 
man's  story,  but  for  the  fact  that  the  man  had  told  him 


Playing  the  Shadow.  195 

something  entirely  different.  One  story  or  the  other 
might  be  true,  but  in  any  case  the  man  in  black  was  a 
liar. 

There  was  a  brief  silence,  and  then  Snell  asked : 

"How  am  I  to  know  that  you  will  surely  pay  me  sev 
enty-five  dollars  for  the  ring?  You  pounced  upon  me  a 
few  minutes  ago  as  if  you  would  rob  me  of  it  if  it  had 
been  in  my  possession." 

"That  was  all  through  my  eagerness  and  excitement," 
declared  the  man,  soothingly.  "I  meant  you  no  harm, 
but  I  was  very  anxious." 

"Well,  I  don't  know ;  I  am  afraid  I  will  be  left  when  I 
get  the  ring  and  hand  it  over,  so  I  guess  I'll " 

"What?" 

Wat  edged  a  little  farther  away. 

"I  guess  I'll  throw  up  the  job,"  he  hesitated. 

"Do  you  still  think  you  can  find  a  way  to  get  the  ring  ?" 

"Think  so!  I  know  I  can  get  it,  sooner  or  later,  if  I 
want  to." 

"Then  look  here,  to  prove  that  I  am  sincere  I  will  pay 
you  this  much  in  advance.  It  is  a  twenty-dollar  gold 
piece.  Now  you  cannot  doubt  my  earnestness  and  fair 
ness  in  this  matter.  If  you  bring  me  the  ring  within 
forty-eight  hours,  I'll  pay  you,  besides  this  twenty,  the 
seventy-five  dollars  I  offered  in  the  first  place." 

Snell  eagerly  clutched  the  piece  of  money. 

"You're  a  brick !"  he  cried.  "And  I'll  lay  myself  out 
to  get  that  ring.  I  haven't  begun  to  try  the  schemes  I 
have  in  my  head.  I  will  meet  you  here  to-morrow  night 
at  abbut  this  time,  and  I'll  do  my  best  to  have  the  ring. 
Only,  if  I  haven't  got  it,  I  want  you  to  promise  not  to 
jump  on  me  and  grab  me  the  way  you  did  to-night." 

"Don't  be  afraid.    I  won't  harm  you." 


196  Playing  the  Shadow. 

"Well,  you  can  scare  a  fellow  out  of  his  boots,  and  I 
don't  like  to  be  scared." 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  something  of  a  coward,"  said 
the  man,  a  trace  of  contempt  in  his  tone. 

But  little  more  passed  between  them  before  the  man  in 
black  turned  away  toward  Fardale  village,  and  Wat  de 
scended  the  road  in  the  direction  of  the  academy. 

Frank  hugged  the  ground  at  one  side  of  the  road,  and 
he  was  not  seen  by  Snell. 

But,  by  the  time  Wat  had  gone  so  far  that  there  was 
little  danger  of  discovery  if  Frank  moved  from  the  lo 
cality,  the  man  in  black  had  vanished  in  the  night. 

Still,  Frank  sprang  up  and  went  scurrying  lightly  up 
the  hill,  keeping  to  the  grass  at  the  side  of  the  road,  so 
his  feet  made  scarcely  a  sound. 

He  hurried  along  the  road  till  Fardale  village  was  al 
most  reached,  but  he  saw  nothing  more  of  the  man  in 
black.  The  mysterious  stranger  had  vanished  as  com 
pletely  as  if  swallowed  up  by  the  earth. 

Frank  had  hoped  to  trace  the  man  to  the  place  where 
he  was  stopping,  but  he  was  forced  to  give  this  up  and 
hurry  back  to  the  academy. 

Still  he  had  not  wasted  his  time. 

"They  will  meet  there  to-morrow  night,  eh?"  he  mut 
tered.  "Well,  it  would  not  be  a  very  difficult  thing  to 
have  an  officer  on  hand  with  a  warrant  for  this  stranger." 

He  went  straight  to  his  room,  hoping  to  find  Hodge 
there. 

He  did.  Bart  was  seated  in  his  favorite  attitude,  with 
his  feet  on  the  table,  and  a  cigarette  in  his  mouth ! 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE      RING      DISAPPEARS. 

"Bart!" 

The  exclamation  of  mingled  surprise  and  reproach 
came  from  Frank's  lips. 

Hodge  had  made  a  move  to  conceal  the  cigarette,  but 
discovered  he  was  too  late. 

His  face  turned  crimson,  and  he  hung  his  head  with 
shame. 

Frank  closed  the  door,  and  came  to  the  side  of  his 
roommate,  on  whose  shoulder  he  gently  placed  a  hand, 
as  he  asked: 

"How  does  it  happen,  Bart?" 

'Bart  started  to  say  something,  choked  a  little,  and 
then  forced  an  unpleasant  laugh. 

"Oh,  I'm  a  liar!"  he  burst  out,  hotly.  "I  have  broken 
my  pledge  at  the  first  temptation !" 

"Why  did  you  do  it?  You  know  you  said  you  could 
.leave  off  smoking  cigarettes  easily." 

"I  thought  I  could." 

"And  you  found  out  the  habit  was  fastened  more 
firmly  on  you  than  you  thought  ?" 

"That's  about  the  size  of  it.  I  have  been  longing  for 
a  cigarette  all  day,  and,  when  I  came  by  accident  upon 
this  one,  finding  myself  all  alone,  I  could  not  resist  the 
desire  to  have  a  whiff." 

"That  shows  the  habit  had  a  firmer  hold  on  you  than 
you  thought." 


198  The  Ring  Disappears.  ^ 

"Yes.  I  fancied  I  could  leave  it  off  readily  enough; 
but  I  was  mistaken.  It  seems  a  fellow  never  knows  what 
a  hold  the  nasty  little  things  have  on  him  till  he  tries  to 
stop  smoking  them." 

•     "And  were  you  going  to  give  up  the  struggle  without 
another  effort?" 

"Oh,  no!  I  didn't  mean  to  smoke  only  this  once. 
That  is,  I  didn't  mean  to  at  first,  but  after  I  got  to  smok 
ing  I  thought  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  taper  off." 

"Which  meant  that  you  were  going  to  tamper  with  the 
stuff  again,  and,  finally,  you  would  smoke  as  much  as 
ever,  and  would  not  leave  off  at  all." 

"Perhaps  you're  right,"  confessed  Hodge,  who  showed 
his  shame. 

"I  am  sure  I  am  right ;  but  you  will  give  over  the  plan 
of  tapering  off — you  will  stop  at  once.  You  are  not 
weak-minded  enough  to  let  cigarettes  get  a  hold  on  you 
that  you  cannot  break." 

"Well,  I  thought  I  wasn't;  but  I  don't  know  about  it 
now." 

"Oh,  this  is  bad,  but  it  doesn't  mean  failure.  I  don't 
believe  you  are  the  kind  of  a  fellow  to  give  in  thus  easily 
to  an  enemy.  You  have  more  fight  in  you  than  that." 

Frank  spoke  in  a  confident  tone,  as  if  he  did  not  doubt 
Hodge's  ability  to  conquer  the  habit,  and  Bart  gave  him 
a  grateful  look. 

All  at  once,  Bart  jumped  up  and  opened  the  window, 
out  of  which  he  fiercely  flung  the  half-smoked  cigarette. 

"If  I  hadn't  been  a  fool  by  nature,  I'd  never  lighted 
the  thing!"  he  cried,  in  supreme  self-contempt.  "Your 
confidence  in  me,  old  man,  has  given  me  confidence  in 
myself.  This  settles  it!  I  am  done  with  cigarettes  for 
ever.  You'll  never  again  discover  me  with  one  in  my 
lips!" 


The  Ring  Disappears.  199 

Bart  had  meant  to  keep  his  pledge  in  the  first  place, 
but  Frank's  failure  to  reproach  him  for  falling,  and 
Frank's  confidence  in  his  ability  to  stop  smoking  gave 
him  the  needed  confidence  in  himself — filled  him  with  a 
determination  not  to  be  defeated.  And  from  that  hour 
he  never  again  smoked  a  cigarette. 

"Now  we're  all  right  again,"  said  Merriwell,  heartily, 
as  Bart  came  back  from  the  window.  "Sit  down  while 
I  relate  a  very  interesting  tale  to  you." 

Bart  sat  down,  and  Frank  told  what  he  had  seen  and 
heard  through  following  Snell. 

"That  sneak  makes  me  sick!"  cried  Hodge,  fiercely. 
"I'd  like  to  get  another  chance  at  him!  Why,  he's  the 
biggest  sneak  in  this  school !" 

"That's  right." 

"Gage  couldn't  hold  a  candle  to  Snell." 

"Gage  was  bolder ;  Snell  is  a  bigger  sneak." 

"That's  about  the  size  of  it.  What  are  you  going  to 
do  with  the  fellow  ?" 

"I  think  it  would  be  well  to  catch  him  in  company 
with  the  man  in  black  when  they  meet  to-morrow  night." 

Bart  slapped  his  thigh. 

"Just  the  scheme!  But  who's  going  to  do  the  catch 
ing?" 

"It  would  be  a  good  plan  to  have  an  officer  from  the 
village  on  hand  for  that  job." 

"Good !  You  can  swear  out  a  warrant  for  the  man  for 
felonious  assault,  attempted  highway  robbery,  or  some 
thing  of  the  sort,  and  have  him  sent  where  he  won't 
trouble  you  again  for  some  little  time." 

"That's  what  I  thought." 

"It  seems  the  only  way  to  get  rid  of  him,  and  he  is 
mighty  dangerous." 

"He  is  desperate." 


200  The  Ring  Disappears. 

"Yes ;  he  means  to  have  that  ring  anyway.  I'll  find  a 
way  to-morrow  to  draw  those  lines  on  paper.  I  don't 
care  if  that  man  does  say  the  ring  is  of  no  particular 
value,  I  know  better.  If  the  lines  are  taken  off,  you  will 
stand  a  show  of  finding  out  what  they  mean." 

Frank  was  eager  to  have  an  enlarged  copy  of  the  lines 
made,  for  he  felt  that  he  could  never  be  sure  that  he 
would  not  lose  the  ring,  even  though  the  mysterious  man 
in  black  should  be  disposed  of  effectually. 

"Snell  is  determined  to  get  himself  into  serious 
trouble,"  said  Frank. 

"Oh,  money  will  hire  him  to  do  any  mean,  sneaking 
thing !"  came  scornfully  from  Bart's  lips. 

"If  he  is  caught  with  this  scoundrel  in  black  to-morrow 
night,  he  will  be  under  a  cloud  here." 

"He  is  under  a  cloud  now.  Twenty  fellows  saw  me 
knock  him  down,  and  they'll  never  give  him  any  rest  till 
he  sends  me  a  challenge." 

"Well,  I  don't  fancy  he  will  send  you  a  challenge." 

"Then  his  life  will  be  made  wretched  while  he  remains 
at  Fardale  Academy." 

"He  has  brought  it  on  himself." 

"Of  course.  A  fellow  can't  be  a  sneak  and  have  the 
respect  of  anybody  who  is  decent.  I  found  that  out  long 
ago." 

The  following  forenoon  Bart  obtained  permission  to 
use  the  microscope  long  enough  to  make  a  drawing  of 
the  lines  on  the  stone  set  in  the  mysterious  ring. 

Before  going  to  recitation,  Frank  surrendered  the  ring 
to  Bart,  who  hesitated  about  taking  it. 

"What  if  I  should  lose  it?"  he  said. 

"You  can't,"  smiled  Frank.  "There  is  no  danger  of 
that." 

"Still,  I  rather  wish  you  were  coming  along." 


The  Ring  Disappears.  201 

"I  can't  do  that  without  getting  dismissed  from  recita 
tion,  and  that  isn't  possible." 

"Well,  I  will  do  the  job  quickly,  and  I'll  have  it  fin 
ished  by  the  time  your  class  is  through  reciting." 

So  they  parted,  and,  with  the  precious  ring  in  his  pos 
session,  Hodge  hurried  to  the  room  where  the  microscope 
v,  as  kept,  having  provided  himself  with  the  necessary 
materials  for  making  the  drawing. 

He  lost  no  time  in  getting  to  work,  and  he  made  rapid 
progress.  As  the  drawing  developed,  he  grew  excited 
and  enthusiastic,  for  he  plainly  saw  it  must  be  a  map  of 
some  wild  bit  of  country. 

"I'll  bet  the  man  who  can  read  this  correctly  and  knows 
where  this  country  is  located,  can  go  straight  to  a 
fortune!"  muttered  the  lad.  "But  I  do  not  see  how  it 
is  going  to  benefit  anybody  who  does  not  know  what  sec 
tion  of  the  country  this  map  represents." 

It  was  a  warm  spring  day,  and  Bart  had  opened  a  win 
dow  near  the  table  at  which  he  was  working.  A  pleasant 
breeze  was  stirring. 

Although  he  took  care  to  be  quite  accurate,  it  did  not 
take  the  lad  long  to  complete  the  drawing. 

He  was  examining  it  carefully  to  make  sure  he  had 
omitted  nothing  and  had  made  no  errors,  when  a  strong 
wind  sucked  through  the  building,  swinging  open  the 
door  of  the  room. 

He  rose  hastily  to  close  the  door,  when  another  breath 
of  wind  set  the  paper  on  which  he  had  been  drawing  flut 
tering  across  the  table.  He  sprang  to  catch  it,  but  it. 
avoided  his  fingers  and  fluttered  out  of  the  window. 
Thrusting  his  head  forth,  he  saw  it  sail  away  and  settle 
slowly  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  great  trees  amid  which  the 
academy  buildings  stood. 

Out  of  the  room  darted  Bart,  and  down  the  stairs  he 


2O2  The  Ring  Disappears. 

bounded.     He  was    soon   outside,   and,    recovering  the 
paper,  which  he  readily  found,  he  hastened  back. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  muttered.  "I  left  that  ring  under 
the  microscope !" 

.     The  thought  that  he  had  allowed  the  ring  to  escape  his 
sight  for  a  moment  filled  him  with  anxiety. 

What  if  he  should  not  find  it  where  he  had  left  it  a  few 
moments  before? 

A  cold  sweat  started  out  on  his  face,  and  he  literally 
tore  up  the  stairs  and  rushed  headlong  into  the  experi 
menting  room,  the  door  of  which  he  had  left  open. 

And  then,  when  he  looked  for  the  mysterious  ring,  he 
found  it  had  vanished ! 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

MORE  DANGER. 

"Gone!" 

Bart  staggered  as  if  he  had  been  struck  a  heavy  blow, 
and  his  face  grew  ghastly  pale,  while  his  eyes  stared  at 
the  spot  where  he  had  last  seen  the  ring. 

It  was  truly  gone.  In  some  surprising  manner  it  had 
disappeared  from  the  room  while  he  was  in  pursuit  of  the 
paper,  astonishing  though  such  a  thing  seemed. 

For  a  few  moments  Hodge  was  quite  overcome  by  this 
discovery.  He  sank  weakly  into  a  chair,  wringing  his 
hands  and  breathing  hoarsely. 

How  had  it  happened  ? 

It  did  not  take  Bart  long  to  decide  that  somp  one  must 
have  slipped  into  the  room  and  stolen  the  ring  while  he 
was  after  the  drawing. 

In  that  case,  whoever  committed  the  theft  must  have 
been  watching  for  an  opportunity,  knowing  that  he  had 
the  ring. 

Hodge  quickly  recovered  from  his  stupefied  condition, 
and  dashed  out  into  the  corridor  to  look  for  the  miscreant. 

"It  must  have  been  Snell/'  was  his  decision.  "I  will 
look  for  the  sneak." 

Straight  to  Snell's  room  he  rushed,  but  Snell's  room 
mate,  who  was  studying,  declared  Wat  had  not  been  there 
in  the  past  hour. 

This  put  Bart  at  sea  for  a  moment.  Where  could  he 
find  Snell? 


2O4  More   Danger. 

Looking  at  the  recitation  board,  he  saw  that  Snell 
should  appear  in  the  recitation  room  in  a  very  few 
minutes. 

He  could  not  be  confronted  there.  What  plan  of  action 
could  be  devised  ? 

He  did  not  wish  to  give  Snell  time  enough  to  conceal 
the  ring.  If  the  fellow  could  be  caught  with  it  still  in  his 
possession,  it  might  be  possible  to  make  him  disgorge. 

It  was  time  for  Frank  to  return  from  recitation.  The 
thought  of  facing  Merriwell  with  the  confession  that  the 
ring  was  gone  made  Bart's  knees  weak;  but  he  decided 
that  that  was  the  proper  course  to  pursue,  and  so  he  hur 
ried  to  their  room. 

Frank  had  just  got  in,  and,  by  the  look  on  Hodge's  face, 
he  instantly  saw  that  something  of  an  alarming  nature 
had  happened. 

"The  ring!"  he  cried.     "Where  is  it?" 

"I  think  Wat  Snell  has  it,"  came  huskily  from  Bart's 
lips. 

With  one  bound,  Merriwell  caught  his  companion  by 
both  shoulders,  staring  straight  into  his  face. 

"Have  you,  also,  turned?  No!  no!"  he  quickly  went 
on.  "I  do  not  think  that  of  you,  Bart!  You  are  still 
true!" 

"No,  I  didn't  go  back  on  you,"  said  Hodge,  thickly; 
"but  I  was  guilty  of  criminal  carelessness." 

"How  did  it  happen?    Tell  me  quick!" 

Bart  did  so,  speaking  swiftly,  so  that  no  more  moments 
were  wasted. 

"It  is  probable  that  Snell  has  it,"  said  Frank.  "He 
must  be  apprehended  without  delay.  Come." 

He  took  the  lead,  and  Bart  followed  at  his  heels. 

But  they  were  not  to  confront  Wat  Snell  at  the  door  of 


More   Danger.  205 

the  recitation  room,  as  Merriwell  hoped,  for  they  were 
not  long  in  learning  that  the  fellow  had  lately  obtained  a 
pass  and  left  the  grounds.  According  to  Snell,  his  uncle 
was  to  pass  through  Fardale  village  on  the  noon  train, 
|and  Wat's  presence  was  desired  at  the  station. 

Of  course  both  Frank  and  Bart  immediately  decided 
that  this  excuse  had  been  used  to  enable  him  to  reach  the 
village  and  deliver  the  stolen  ring  to  the  man  in  black. 

For  all  of  their  desire  to  pursue  Snell  hotly,  they  were 
unable  to  leave  without  permission,  and  so  valuable  time 
was  lost.  At  length,  however,  they  were  on  the  highway, 
running  side  by  side  toward  the  village. 

Frank  had  seemed  cool  and  clear-headed,  but,  not 
knowing  that  Bart  had  fully  completed  the  drawing  of  the 
lines  on  the  black  stone,  in  his  heart  he  was  feeling  very 
desperate  indeed. 

Hodge  had  grown  thoroughly  angry,  and  Snell  was 
likely  to  get  hurt  when  Bart  placed  hands  upon  him. 

The  boys  were  good  runners,  and  they  covered  the  dis 
tance  betweeen  the  academy  and  Fardale  village  in  a  very 
short  time. 

Once  within  the  village,  they  began  inquiring  for  Snell, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  they  discovered  people  who 
had  seen  him.  To  the  post  office  they  went,  and  then  they 
were  told  that  a  boy  answering  Snell's  description  had 
been  seen  going  toward  the  railway  station. 

"It  would  be  a  corker  if  the  fellow  had  really  come  to 
see  his  uncle !"  said  Bart. 

"I  do  not  take  any  stock  in  that  now,"  declared  Frank. 

"Nor  I ;  but  I  don't  understand  why  he  is  making  so 
many  twists  and  turns  since  reaching  the  village.  If  he 
has  the  ring,  why  didn't  he  take  it  straight  to  the  man  in 
black?" 


206  More   Danger. 

"Perhaps  he  knows  as  little  about  where  to  find  that  in 
dividual  as  we  do." 

"Possibly." 

They  came  in  sight  of  the  station,  about  which  were 
several  carriages,  while  a  few  people  were  seen  on  the 
platform,  waiting  for  the  midday  train. 

Reaching  the  station,  they  came  sharply  round  the  first 
corner,  and  found  themselves  face  to  face  with  Wat  Snell 
and  the  man  in  black. 

At  that  very  instant  Snell  accepted  some  money  and 
surrendered  something  to  the  stranger. 

Frank's  keen  eyes  saw  that  the  something  was  the 
stolen  ring. 

With  a  cry,  he  leaped  forward,  flinging  Snell  aside,  and 
grasping  the  man. 

"Give  me  that  ring!" 

A  fierce  exclamation  of  fury  broke  from  the  stranger's 
lips,  and  he  swiftly  thrust  the  ring  into  his  pocket. 

"Hands  off,  boy !"  he  hoarsely  commanded.  "Hands 
off,  or  you  will  get  hurt !" 

"I'll  never  take  my  hands  off  you  till  you  give  up  that 
ring,  you  scoundrel !" 

The  man  having  encountered  Frank  before,  well  knew 
that  the  boy  possessed  remarkable  strength,  which  would 
not  make  it  an  easy  thing  to  shake  him  off. 

"Let  go !"  he  hissed. 

"I  will  not!" 

"Then  take  that !" 

Something  bright  and  gleaming,  like  the  blade  of  a 
knife,  flashed  in  the  man's  hand.  He  struck,  and  with  a 
cry,  Frank  fell  heavily  to  the  platform ! 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

THE     SECRET     OF     THE     RING. 

Astonished  and  horrified  though  he  was,  Bart  Hodge 
realized  that  Frank  had  been  stabbed.  At  that  moment, 
with  the  lack  of  resolution  that  was  characteristic  of  him 
on  occasions  of  peril,  and  not  through  fear,  he  stood  quite 
still  and  did  nothing. 

Without  a  shout  or  a  sound,  the  man  in  black  leaped 
toward  the  end  of  the  station,  where  a  saddled  and  bridled 
horse  was  hitched  to  a  post. 

One  slash  of  the  knife  set  the  horse  free,  and  the  des 
perate  man  leaped  to  the  creature's  back,  riding  rapidly 
away. 

Frank  had  swiftly  risen  to  his  feet,  and  several  persons, 
who  had  witnessed  the  blow,  crowded  anxiously  around 
him,  asking  how  badly  he  was  hurt. 

'It's  nothing  but  a  scratch  in  the  shoulder,  for  I  saw  it 
coming,  and  dodged.  Don't  mind  me.  Don't  let  that 
man  get  away !" 

"He  won't  get  very  fur  on  that  hoss,"  said  the  owner 
of  the  animal.  "She's  lame  in  her  off  hind  foot,  an' 
she'll  tarnal  soon  give  out  if  he  pushes  her  like  that." 

"Still  he  will  get  away  if  he  is  not  immediately  pursued. 
Come — who'll  follow?" 

"Into  this  carriage,  boy!"  cried  a  man.  "I  have  a  lit 
tle  horse  here  that  will  give  him  a  hot  chase.  Come  on  !" 

"I  am  the  constable,"  said  another  man,  with  great  dig 
nity.  "I'll  foller  as  soon  as  I  can  get  a  hoss  saddled." 


2o8  The  Secret  of  the  Ring. 

Realizing  that  the  boy  was  not  seriously  hurt,  half  of 
those  who  had  been  lingering  about  the  station  made  a 
rush  to  join  in  the  pursuit  of  the  murderous  stranger. 
All  kinds  of  teams  were  pressed  into  use,  and  the  road 
was  soon  filled  with  a  string  of  pursuers. 

Looking  back  anxiously,  the  man  in  black  saw  them 
coming,  and  he  grated  his  teeth  fiercely,  for  he  had 
already  discovered  that  the  horse  he  had  appropriated  was 
seriously  lamed. 

"Let  'em  come!"  he  cried.  "I'll  not  be  taken  easily! 
I  have  the  key  to  a  fortune  in  my  pocket,  and  I  will  es 
cape  with  it,  if  it  is  in  me  to  do  so !" 

Ruthlessly  and  cruelly  he  pricked  the  lame  mare  with 
the  keen  point  of  the  knife,  which  he  still  held  in  his 
hand,  and  a  trail  of  dust  rose  behind  him. 

Out  of  the  village  and  into  the  country  the  lame  horse 
bore  the  fugitive.  Not  far  from  Fardale  was  a  big  stone 
quarry,  and,  by  chance,  the  man  had  selected  the  road 
which  skirted  the  jagged  hole  in  the  ground. 

His  pursuers  were  gaining  on  him,  and  he  continued  to 
use  the  knife  mercilessly  as  the  horse  bore  him  along  the 
road  past  the  quarry. 

Of  a  sudden  a  large  dog  bounded  into  the  road  in 
front  of  the  man  in  black,  and  the  horse  which  the  man 
bestrode  gave  a  snort  and  whirled  sideways,  coming  with 
a  crash  against  the  rail  which  ran  along  by  the  roadside. 

At  that  point  the  rail  was  somewhat  rotten,  and  a  shriek 
of  horror  broke  from  the  man's  lips  as  he  saw  it  break. 
He  made  one  desperate  effort  to  spring  from  the  saddle 
and  escape  going  down  into  the  quarry  with  the  horse, 
but  the  pursuers  were  dismayed  to  see  man  and  beast 
disappear  into  the  yawning  hole. 

"He  won't  get  away  to-day,  my  boy,"  said  the  man  in 
the  foremost  carriage,  at  whose  side  was  Frank.  "We'll 


The  Secret  of  the  Ring.  209 

find  him  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  quarry,  dead  as  a 
flounder." 

Finding  a  place  to  hitch  the  horse  at  the  side  of  the 
road,  the  man  did  so,  and  they  went  forward  together, 
while  the  other  pursuers  kept  coming  up. 

Reaching  the  point  where  the  man  and  horse  had  fallen 
into  the  quarry,  they  looked  down. 

Amid  the  jagged  rocks  far  below  were  two  motionless 
forms. 

"Come,"  said  the  man;  "we'll  go  down  there  by  the 
regular  road." 

They  passed  round  the  quarry  till  they  found  a  road 
that  wound  downward  till  it  reached  the  bottom.  By  this 
road  they  descended,  with  scores  of  others  at  their  heels. 

When  they  came  to  the  man  and  the  horse,  great  was 
their  astonishment  to  hear  the  man  moaning  and  to  see 
him  open  his  eyes  and  look  at  them. 

"Why,  the  critter  an't  dead  yet!"  exclaimed  the  con 
stable.  "I  think  it's  my  sollum  duty  to  arrest  him  on 
the  spot." 

Frank  quickly  knelt  by  the  side  of  the  mysterious  man, 
who  faintly  whispered : 

"So  I  didn't  kill  you,  boy.  Well,  I  have  crimes  enough 
to  answer  for.  The  ring  is  here  in  my  vest  pocket.  Take 
it.  It  will  never  do  me  any  good  now." 

Frank  quickly  extracted  the  ring  from  the  man's 
pocket,  and  slipped  it  upon  his  finger. 

"I  am  dying,"  murmured  the  man. 

"Perhaps  not.  We'll  have  you  taken  back  to  town,  and 
see  what  a  doctor  can  do  for  you." 

"No  use;  I  wouldn't  live  to  get  there.  My  time  has 
come.  The  hidden  mine  will  never  reveal  its  riches  to 
me." 

"He  is  really  dying,"  whispered  some  one  in  Frank's 


210  The  Secret  of  the  Ring. 

ear.  "He  will  not  live  ten  minutes.  The  wonder  is  that 
he  is  alive  at  all." 

"Who  are  you  ?  and  what  is  the  mystery  connected  with 
this  ring?"  hurriedly  asked  the  boy. 

"Never  mind  my  name,"  came  faintly  from  the  lips  of 
the  dying  man.  "It  would  do  you  no  good  to  know  it. 
I  have  lived  a  wild  life — a  wicked  life.  This  is  the  end ! 
Fate  brought  me  to  Fardale — fate  showed  me  the  ring 
that  bore  the  chart  to  the  lost  mine." 

The  man  stopped  and  closed  his  eyes,  while  the  ghastly 

pallor  spread  over  his  face. 

% 

A  hand  held  a  bottle  of  liquor  to  his  lips,  and  he  swal 
lowed  a  few  drops,  which  gave  him  a  few  more  moments 
of  life.  Again  his  eyes  unclosed. 

"Once  I  committed  murder  for  that  ring,"  he  whis 
pered.  "I  killed  the  Mexican  who  possessed  it.  It  was  a 
crazy  hermit  who  cut  that  map  on  the  stone.  He  dis 
covered  one  of  the  richest  mines  in  Arizona,  and  a  fantasy 
of  his  deranged  brain  led  him  to  cut  the  chart  upon  the 
stone,  for  he  cared  nothing  for  the  gold  himself.  When 
he  died,  he  gave  the  ring  to  a  Mexican  who  attended  him 
in  his  last  moments,  telling  him  its  secret.  In  Tombstone 
the  Mexican  got  drunk  and  boasted  of  his  riches,  show 
ing  the  ring.  That  night  I  killed  the  greaser,  and  ob 
tained  the  ring.  I  had  a  partner,  and  he  stole  the  ring 
from  me.  How  he  came  to  part  with  it,  and  how  it  fell 
into  the  hands  of  your  father,  boy,  is  something  I  do  not 
know." 

He  was  exhausted,  and  his  voice  sunk  till  Frank  could 
not  catch  the  words.  Then  he  lay  still,  short  breaths 
fluttering  his  lips. 

Frank  feared  the  man  would  not  rally  again,  but  he 
did,  and  the  boy  panted: 


The  Secret  of  the  Ring.  2 1 1 

"Tell  me  where  this  mine  is  located.  What  part  of 
Arizona  does  the  chart  represent?" 

With  a  last  great  effort,  the  dying  man  whispered: 

"Northwest  from  Tombstone — lies  the — Santa — Cata- 
rina — mountains.  There — there — is " 

His  eyes  grew  glassy — the  last  faint  breath  fluttered 
over  his  lips — the  man  of  mystery  was  dead. 


The  man  in  black  was  buried  in  the  cemetery  just  out 
side  Fardale  village,  and  the  small  stone  which  Frank 
Merriwell  caused  to  be  placed  at  the  head  of  his  grave 
bears  the  word  "Unknown." 

The  man  had  died  just  as  his  lips  were  about  to  reveal 
the  location  of  the  country  depicted  by  the  chart  cut  on 
the  black  stone  of  the  ring  that  had  caused  so  much 
trouble.  He  had  mentioned  the  Santa  Catarina  moun 
tains,  but  he  had  not  told  what  part  of  the  large  range  the 
chart  depicted. 

"If  he  had  lived  thirty  seconds  longer,  I  should  have 
learned  his  secret — should  have  known  how  to  reach  the 
lost  mine  by  aid  of  the  chart.  Now " 

"You  may  be  able  to  reach  the  mine  after  all,"  said 
Bart,  encouragingly.  "You  have  the  ring,  and  you  know 
its  value.  When  you  leave  school,  you  may  go  West  and 
search  for  your  mine,  for  it  certainly  belongs  to  you  now. 
You  may  find  somebody  in  the  Santa  Catarina  region  that 
will  recognize  thi  portion  of  the  country  depicted  here." 

"Long  before  that  the  mine  may  be  found  by  some 
one  else." 

"It  is  possible,  but  hardly  probable.  If  it  were  so  easy 
to  find,  that  man  would  not  have  made  such  desperate 
attempts  to  obtain  possession  of  the  ring." 

"Well,  I  am  not  going  to  kick.     I  have  the  ring,  and 


212  The  Secret  of  the  Ring. 

his  knife  did  not  end  my  life,  as  it  would  if  I  had  not 
dodged.  He  slit  open  my  sleeve  from  the  shoulder  to  the 
elbow,  and  brought  the  blood." 

"Oh,  you're  a  lucky  dog,"  laughed  Bart.  "You  are 
sure  to  come  out  on  top  every  time." 

Wat  Snell  found  it  convenient  to  take  a  vacation,  but 
he  returned  to  the  academy  later,  although  he  found  him 
self  regarded  with  scorn  by  all  save  a  certain  few  of  his 
own  sort. 

Had  Frank  seen  fit,  he  could  have  had  Wat  expelled ; 
but  it  seemed  that,  if  the  fellow  had  any  sense  of  shame, 
the  way  he  was  treated  by  the  other  cadets  was  quite 
punishment  enough. 

Sometimes  Frank  and  Bart  would  get  out  the  draw 
ing  the  latter  boy  had  made  from  the  lines  on  the  ring, 
and  they  would  study  over  it  a  long  time,  but  they  al 
ways  found  it  baffling,  and  they  finally  gave  up  in  de 
spair. 

Still  Frank  clung  to  both  ring  and  chart,  hoping  they 
would  some  day  prove  valuable  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
"BABY." 

A  year  had  passed  since  Frank  entered  Fardale 
Military  Academy — a  year  crowded  with  events  and  ad 
ventures  such  as  made  its  memory  both  pleasant  and  pain 
ful. 

The  time  of  the  June  encampment  had  again  arrived. 

Frank  was  no  longer  a  plebe,  and  the  glistening  chev 
rons  on  his  sleeves  told  that  the  first  year  in  the  academy 
had  not  been  wasted.  He  was  now  Cadet  Corporal  Mer- 
riwell. 

The  graduates  had  departed,  and  the  furlough  men 
were  away  at  their  homes. 

A  new  squad  of  plebes  had  been  admitted  to  the  school, 
and  the  yearlings,  mad  with  joy  at  being  released  from 
plebedom  themselves,  were  trying  every  scheme  their  fer 
tile  brains  could  devise  for  making  miserable  the  lives  of 
their  successors. 

During  the  first  two  weeks  that  the  plebes  had  been  in 
the  academy  the  opportunities  for  hazing  them  had  been 
few;  but  immediately  on  getting  into  camp  the  mischie 
vous  lads  who  had  suffered  the  year  before,  not  a  few 
of  whom  had  sworn  that  nothing  in  the  wide  world — 
nothing,  nothing,  nothing! — could  tempt  them  to  molest 
a  fourth-class  man,  lost  no  time  in  "getting  after"  the 
"new  stiffs,"  as  the  plebes  were  sometimes  called  at  Far- 
dale. 


214  "Baby." 

The  yearlings  were  eager  to  find  fags  among  the 
plebes,  and  they  generally  succeeded  in  inducing  the  new 
boys  to  bring  buckets  of  water,  sweep  the  tent  floors, 
make  beds,  clean  up,  and  do  all  sorts  of  work  which  the 
older  cadets  should  have  done  themselves  and  were  sup 
posed  to  do. 

While  the  penalty  for  exacting  the  performance  of  any 
menial  or  degrading  task,  as  well  as  for  hazing,  was 
court-martial  and  possible  dismissal,  the  yearling  gener 
ally  succeeded  in  getting  the  work  done  without  giv 
ing  orders  or  making  demands,  so  the  plebes  could  not 
say  they  had  been  coerced  into  doing  those  things  against 
their  will. 

Each  yearling  sought  to  have  a  particular  fag  to  at 
tend  to  him  and  his  wishes,  and  no  cadet  could  demand 
service  of  another  fellow's  fag  without  danger  of  bring 
ing  about  trouble. 

At  first,  Frank  had  resolved  to  astonish  his  companions 
by  attending  to  his  own  duties  entirely  by  himself,  and 
having  no  fag;  but  it  was  shortly  after  the  new  boys 
came  to  Fardale  that  he  saw  something  that  made  him 
change  his  mind. 

Among  the  plebes  was  a  rather  timid-looking,  red- 
cheeked  lad,  who  seemed  even  further  out  of  his  element 
than  did  his  awkward  companions.  He  was  shy  and  re 
tiring,  blushed  easily,  and,  at  times,  had  trouble  in  find 
ing  his  voice. 

Such  a  fellow  was  certain  to  attract  attention  at  any 
school,  and  he  was  soon  singled  out  as  a  particular  ob 
ject  for  chaffing  by  the  yearlings. 

He  blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  on  being  called 
"Baby,"  "Mamma's  Boy,"  "Little  Tootsy- Wootsy,"  and 
other  names  of  the  sort  applied  to  him  by  the  cadets. 

His  real  name  was  Fred  Davis,  and  of  the  nicknames 


"Baby."  215 

given  him  Baby  seemed  to  stick  the  best,  so  it  was  not 
long  before  he  came  to  be  known  by  that  almost  alto 
gether,  the  officers  and  instructors  being  the  only  ones 
who  did  not  use  it  in  addressing  him. 

At  the  outset  Fred  was  unfortunate  in  being  singled 
out  for  guying  by  Hugh  Bascomb,  who  was  a  bully  by 
nature,  and  whose  ideas  of  fun  were  likely  to  be  of  a 
vicious  order. 

Bascomb  saw  he  could  plague  Davis,  and  he  kept  at  the 
little  fellow,  piling  it  on  unmercifully.  In  fact,  he  seemed 
to  take  a  strong  dislike  to  the  boy  with  the  pink  cheeks, 
whom  he  derisively  designated  as  "the  dolly  boy,"  and  he 
lost  no  opportunity  to  humiliate  Davis. 

It  happened  that,  on  a  certain  occasion,  Bascomb  de 
sired  that  Fred  should  lie  for  him,  but,  to  his  surprise, 
the  timid  plebe  absolutely  and  firmly  declined  to  lie. 

"I — I  can't  do  it,  sir,"  stammered  the  little  fellow.  "I'd 
do  it  if  I  could,  but  I  can't." 

"Why  not,  pray?"  fiercely  demanded  Bascomb,  tower 
ing  above  the  shrinking  lad  and  scowling  blackly.  "That's 
what  I  want  to  know — why  not?" 

"Because  I  promised  mother  I  would  not  lie,  and  she 
— she  has  confidence  in  me." 

"Oh,  she — she  has!"  mocked  Bascomb.  "You  make 
me  sick — you  do!  I  never  took  any  stock  in  mamma 
boys.  Now  you're  going  to  do  as  I  want  you  to,  or  I'll 
make  it  hot  for  you." 

"I   shall   not  lie,  sir." 

"All  right ;  wait  till  you  get  into  camp.  Oh,  we  won't 
do  a  thing  to  you!" 

From  that  time  Bascomb  did  his  best  to  set  his  compan 
ions  against  Davis,  a  fact  which  Frank  soon  noted. 

Knowing  that  Bascomb  was  at  heart  a  bully,  Frank 


216  "Baby." 

immediately  saw  that  Davis  would  have  a  hard  life  dur 
ing  his  first  months  in  the  academy. 

Frank's  sympathy  went  out  to  the  little  fellow,  who 
had  been  so  tenderly  reared  that  he  knew  very  little  of  the 
harsh  ways  of  the  world  outside  his  own  home.  He  re 
solved  that  the  little  plebe  should  be  given  a  fair  show. 

Somehow  Frank  divined  that  Bascomb  intended  to 
secure  Davis  for  his  fag,  and  he  resolved  to  balk  the  bully 
in  this.  So  it  came  about  that,  on  the  day  that  the  plebes 
marched  into  camp,  with  their  bundles  under  their  arms, 
Merriwell  found  an  opportunity  to  take  Davis  into  his 
tent  and  instruct  him  in  cleaning  shoes  and  setting  things 
to  order. 

Fred  attended  to  these  things  cheerfully,  never  dream 
ing  that  they  were  not  a  part  of  his  regular  duties. 
When  he  had  finished,  Merriwell  said : 

"That  is  very  satisfactory,  Mr.  Davis.  Immediately 
after  tattoo  you  may  come  round  and  be  shown  how  to 
make  up  beds.  In  the  meantime,  if  any  one  else  should 
require  you  to  perform  service  of  a  similar  nature  in  any 
tent  other  than  your  own,  you  may  inform  them  that  you 
have  already  received  instructions  from  me,  and  that  the 
state  of  your  health  will  prevent  you  from  doing  too  much 
labor  of  the  kind.  Do  you  understand?" 

"I  think  so,  sir." 

"Very  good.     You  may  go." 

Frank's  duties  kept  him  very  busy  during  the  most  of 
the  day.  He  had  little  time  to  look  after  Davis,  and  he 
scarcely  gave  his  fag  a  thought  till  after  supper,  when 
the  dusk  of  evening  was  settling  over  the  cove,  and  the 
"plebe  hotels"  had  been  surrounded  at  various  points  by 
mischievous  yearlings.  Then  he  took  a  fancy  to  stroll 
around  and  see  how  Baby  was  getting  along. 

On  his  way  down  the  street  he  passed  the  tent  oc- 


"Baby."  217 

cupied  by  Bascomb.  He  might  have  walked  on,  but  the 
low,  fierce  voice  of  the  big  cadet  caught  his  ear,  and  he 
distinctly  heard  these  words: 

"What's  that?  You  refuse  to  bring  water  for  me? 
Have  done  this  kind  of  work  already  for  Merriwell  ?  So 
Corporal  Merriwell  has  been  compelling  a  plebe  to  per 
form  menial  services?  Well,  that  might  cost  him  those 
pretty  stripes  on  his  sleeves !  What  do  I  care  for  him ! 
I  want  you  to  bring  that  water,  and  you  will  bring  it." 

"But  he  told  me  not  to  do  work  of  this  kind  for  any 
body  else  but  myself,"  came  the  faltering  voice  of  Fred 
Davis. 

"Oh,  he  did?  Well,  that's  interesting!  I  suppose  by 
that  he  means  to  lay  claim  to  you.  I  wonder  what  Lieu 
tenant  Gordan  would  say  if  he  knew  what  one  of  his 
particular  pets  has  been  up  to!  We'll  see  who  is  best 
man  in  this  affair.  Bring  that  water !" 

"I— I  don't  want  to,  sir." 

"Well,  it  doesn't  make  any  difference  about  that ;  you'll 
bring  it,  whether  you  want  to  or  not.  If  you  don't,  I 
will " 

"What  will  you  do  in  that  case,  Bascomb  ?"  quietly 
asked  Frank,  as  he  stepped  lightly  and  quickly  into  the 
tent,  and  confronted  the  big  cadet,  who  was  towering 
over  Fred  Davis  in  a  threatening  attitude. 

Bascomb  recoiled,  with  a  muttered  exclamation  of  dis 
may. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

SPORT     WITH     A     PLEBE. 


'Merriwell- 


Bascomb's  face  showed  he  was  little  pleased  by  the 
appearance  of  Frank. 

"I  believe  you  were  about  to  tell  Mr.  Davis  what  you 
would  do  in  case  he  declined  to  bring  a  bucket  of  water 
for  you,  sir,"  said  the  yearling  with  chevrons.  'Tray, 
proceed !" 

"This — this  is  an  intrusion !"  grated  Bascomb. 

"Really  so?"  And  Frank's  eyebrows  were  uplifted  in 
mock  surprise.  "I  presumed  I  would  be  welcome  to  the 
tent  of  a  classmate." 

"Well,  you  are  not  welcome  here,"  growled  the  big 
fellow. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?" 

"Nothing.  If  you  haven't  the  instincts  of  a  gentle 
man " 

Frank  interrupted  with  a  laugh. 

"Really  that  sounds  fine  from  your  lips,  Mr.  Bas 
comb  !"  he  exclaimed.  "You  were  trying  to  intimidate 
one  smaller  and  weaker  than  yourself  a  moment  ago,  and 
yet  you  have  the  nerve  to  talk  of  gentlemanly  instincts. 
You  seem  to  be  venturing  on  unfamiliar  grounds,  sir." 

Bascomb  glared.  He  longed  to  punch  Merriwell's 
head,  but  he  felt  that  Frank  was  anxious  for  him  to  at 
tempt  a  move  of  the  sort. 


Sport  With  a  Plebe.  219 

"You're  a  nice  chap  to  talk  of  intimidation  when  you 
have  already  forced  Baby  to  fag  for  you !"  he  cried,  hotly. 

"I  think  Mr.  Davis  will  attest  that  I  neither  forced  him 
nor  asked  him  to  perform  any  task  for  me.  I  simply 
gave  him  a  few  instructions  that  were  sure  to  be  of  ma 
terial  benefit  to  him.  But  I  heard  you  demanding  serv 
ice,  and  seeking  to  compel  it  with  threats.  You  know 
what  the  penalty  is  for  such  conduct." 

"And  I  suppose  you  are  just  the  kind  of  a  fellow  to 
blow.  All  right;  go  ahead." 

"I  scarcely  like  your  tone  or  your  language,  Mr.  Bas- 
comb ;  but  I  am  not  going  to  pick  it  U£  here  and  now. 
However,  you  have  accused  me  of  making  Mr.  Davis  a 
fag.  I  presume  you  know  there  is  a  rule  in  this  school 
that  no  man  has  a  right  to  demand  service  of  another 
man's  fag?  Knowing  this,  you  tried  to  make  Mr.  Davis 
perform  your  duties  about  the  tent.  Weren't  you  tread 
ing  on  rather  dangerous  ground,  sir  ?" 

Bascomb  looked  at  the  floor,  and  muttered  something. 

"You  may  not  have  realized  what  you  were  doing," 
Merriwell  went  on.  "In  which  case,  you  are  pardonable 
to  a  certain  degree.  But  I  warn  you  to  let  nothing  of 
this  kind  occur  again,  or  you  will  have  the  entire  camp 
down  on  you." 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  grated  Bascomb. 

"I  am  very  glad  you  do,"  came  coolly  from  Frank's 
lips.  "I  hoped  to  make  my  meaning  plain.  And  I  have 
something  more  to  say.  Since  the  arrival  of  the  new 
boys,  you  have  seemed  to  single  Mr.  Davis  out  as  an 
especial  object  for  ridicule  and  torment.  I  don't  know 
that  you  have  done  so  because  Mr.  Davis  is  small  and 
scarcely  a  match  for  you,  but  it  looks  that  way.  Now, 
Mascomb,  if  I  were  in  your  place,  I  would  let  up.  If  you 


22o  Sport  With  a  Plebe. 

persist,  you  are  bound  to  get  yourself  into  serious  trouble. 
I  am  going  to  see  that  Davis  has  a  fair  show,  and  the 
fellow  who  crowds  him  too  hard  will  have  some  difficulty 
with  me." 

Bascomb  forced  a  mocking  laugh. 

"You  seem  to  fancy  you  can  set  yourself  up  against 
the  whole  battalion,"  he  sneered.  "I  don't  believe  any 
plebe  ever  got  through  this  school  without  taking  his 
medicine,  and  I  scarcely  think  you  will  be  able  to  pull 
this  one  through  that  way.  'The  fellows  are  not  very 
fond  of  pets." 

"That's  all  right.  The  only  thing  I  ask  of  you  is  that 
you  let  Davis  alone." 

"Perhaps  I  will,  and  perhaps  I  won't." 

"You  will  if  you  know  what  is  good  for  you." 

Again  the  big  fellow  glared  through  the  gathering 
darkness,  but  Frank  met  the  gaze  squarely,  and  Bas- 
comb's  eyes  dropped. 

"That's  all  I  have  to  say,"  came  quietly  from  Frank. 
"You  may  go  now,  Mr.  Davis.  Don't  forget  you  are  to 
receive  instructions  in  making  beds  after  you  answer  to 
your  name  at  tattoo." 

"No,  sir,  I  will  not  forget,"  said  the  little  plebe,  and, 
making  a  salute,  he  hurried  away,  glad  to  escape  from 
Bascomb 's  clutches. 

Frank  stood  looking  straight  at  his  big  classmate,  who 
made  a  pretense  of  disregarding  him. 

"You  should  take  warning  by  what  has  happened  to 
several  of  your  particular  friends,  Bascomb,"  he  finally 
said.  "Harkins  resigned  to  escape  court-martial  and 
dismissal ;  Gage  deserted  and  ran  away,  and  Snell  has  be 
come  the  most  unpopular  fellow  in  the  academy,  and  all 
because " 


Sport  With  a  Plebe.  221 

"All  because  they  ran  against  you !"  snarled  Bascomb, 
madly.  "You  have  had  the  greatest  luck  of  any  fellow  I 
ever  saw ;  but  there  is  a  turning  point  somewhere.  You 
never  miss  an  opportunity  to  jump  on  a  fellow,  and " 

"Now,  you  are  making  a  statement  that  you  know  is 
absolutely  false,  sir!"  exclaimed  Merriwell.  "I  have 
never  crowded  any  fellow,  and  I  have  never  lost 
an  opportunity  to  cover  as  far  as  possible  and  honorable 
any  wrongdoing  a  fellow  cadet  may  have  been  led  into. 
You  may  not  know  that  I  could  have  caused  Snell's 
expulsion  in  disgrace  if  I  had  wished,  but  it  is  true." 

"Oh,  you  are  very  generous — exceedingly  magnani 
mous  !  All  the  matter  is,  people  don't  know  it." 

"You  are  at  liberty  to  think  what  you  like  about  it.  I 
have  warned  you,  and  you  will  do  well  to  heed  my  warn 
ing.  That  is  all  I  have  to  say." 

Frank  left  the  tent,  and  continued  on  his  way. 

Crowds  of  cadets  gathered  here  and  there  near  certain 
"plebe  hotels"  told  where  the  yearlings  were  enjoying 
sport  at  the  expense  of  the  new  boys. 

As  Frank  came  near  to  the  first  collection,  the  familiar 
voice  of  his  former  tentmate,  Hans  Dunnerwust,  attracted 
his  attention. 

Forcing  his  way  toward  the  center  of  the  laughing 
throng,  he  found  Hans  catechising  a  tall,  lank  country 
boy  named  Ephraim  Gallup,  who  was  repeatedly  forced 
to  explain  that  he  was  "from  Varmont,  by  gum,"  which 
expression  seemed  to  delight  the  listening  lads  more  and 
more  with  each  repetition. 

"Vere  vos  dot  Varmont,  sir?"  demanded  Hans,  with  a 
great  show  of  dignity.  "Vos  it  a  cidy  alretty  yet,  or  vos 
it  a  village  ?" 

"Oh,  yer  gol  dern  ignerent  critter Er — er — ex- 


222  Sport  With  a  Plebe. 

cuse  me,  sir !  I  f ergot  whut  I  wuz  sayin',  darn  my  skin 
ef  I  didn't !  Varmont  is  a  State,  an'  one  of  ther  smartest 
gol  derned  States  in  ther  Union,  by  gum !" 

"Vos  dot  so?  I  subbose  you  exbect  dot  Varmont  vos 
peen  large  enough  to  be  a  cidy  britty  soon,  ain'd  id?" 

"Wai,  gol  blame  my  eyes !  Don't  you  know  ther  dif 
ference  betwixt  a  State  an'  a  city  ?  Ef  ye  don't,  I  think 
you'd  best  go  studdy  yer  jografry  some  more." 

"Don'd  ged  so  oxcited,  sir,"  cautioned  the  Dutch  boy, 
with  a  wave  of  one  pudgy  hand.  "Id  don'd  peen  goot 
your  health  for.  Vos  dot  Varmont  a  broductive  Sdate?" 

"Productive!  Wai,  you  bet  yer  last  dollar!  We  kin 
raise  more  grass  to  ther  square  acre " 

"Veil,  how  apout  hayseeds?  You  raise  dose  ub  there 
py  der  quandity,  I  pelief  me?" 

"What  makes  ye  think  so?" 

"Because  your  hair  vos  full  of  id." 

"What's  that?  what's  that?"  cried  Ephraim,  in  aston 
ishment,  quickly  removing  his  cap  and  clawing  through 
his  hair  with  his  fingers.  "Hayseed  in  my  hair  ?  Darned 
if  I  believe  it !" 

The  boys  roared,  and  the  face  of  the  country  lad  grew 
crimson. 

"You're  havin'  a  gol  derned  pile  of  fun  with  me,"  he 
said,  sheepishly.  "Wai,  sail  right  in  an'  have  it.  I  kin 
stand  it." 

"Begobs !  it's  nivver  a  bit  roight  at  all,  at  all,"  said  a 
boy  with  a  rich  Irish  brogue,  and  Barney  Mulloy  pushed 
his  Dutch  friend  aside.  "Av  it's  a  soldier  yure  goin'  to 
be,  me  b'y,  it's  instructions  in  military  tictacks  you  nade. 
Now,  sur,  in  case  ye  wur  on  guarrud  at  noight,  an' 
should  foind  yure  post  invaded  by  the  simultaneous  ap- 


Sport  With  a  Plebe.  223 

pearance  av  the  commandant  an'  corporal  av  th'  guarrud 
on  th'  roight,  the  gineral-in-chafe  an'  staff  on  th'  left,  an' 
a  rigimint  av  red-headed  girrulls  behindt  yez,  all  wearin* 
bloomers  an'  arrumed  to  th'  tathe  wid  corrun-brooms  an' 
feather-dusthers,  which  would  yez  advance  firrust  wid 
th'  countysoign  ?" 

This  sort  of  a  question,  put  to  a  plebe  with  all  sorts  of 
twists  and  variations,  was  time-honored  at  Fardale, 
whither  it  had  come  from  West  Point,  where  plebes  are 
puzzled  with  some  variation  of  it  year  after  year. 

The  country  boy  grinned  a  bit,  and,  still  with  his  little 
fingers  touching  the  seams  of  his  trousers  and  the  palms 
of  his  hands  turned  to  the  front,  lifted  his  left  foot  and 
scratched  his  right  shin  with  his  heel,  till  a  sharp  rap  on 
the  ankle  brought  the  foot  down  to  the  ground  again,  and 
caused  him  to  brace  up  stiffly,  drawling : 

"Gol  darned  if  I  wouldn't  be  so  scat  I'd  surrender  on 
ther  spot  ter  ther  red-headed  gals  in  bloomers." 

These  words  do  not  look  very  humorous  in  print,  but 
they  sounded  comical  as  they  came  from  the  mouth  of  that 
raw  countryman,  and  the  crowd  roared  with  laughter 
again. 

"Be  me  soul!"  exclaimed  Barney.  "It's  yersilf  thot 
knows  a  hape  more  thin  Oi  thought  yez  did.  Ye  show 
yer  good  judgmint  in  surrunderin'  to  th'  girruls,  fer  wan 
av  thim  alone  wud  capture  yez  av  she  set  out  to,  an'  ould 
Nick  take  th'  countysoign — she  wudn't  nade  it !" 

Next  the  country  lad  was  invited  to  sing,  "to  develop 
his  vocal  organs." 

"Oh,  say!"  he  awkwardly  grinned.  "I  can't  sing— I 
really  can't,  by  gum !" 

"Oh,  you  vos  too  modest  alretty  yet,"  declared  Hans. 
"You  peen  goin'  to  ged  ofer  dot  britty  soon  pime-by." 


224  Sport  With  a  Plebe. 

"But  I  hain't  got  no  voice,  an'  I  can't  sing  a  tune  no 
more  than  a  mule  kin." 

"Me  b'y,"  said  Barney,  "Oi  admire  yer  modesty,  but 
ye'll  foind  it  necessary  to  sing  fer  th'  intertainmint  av 
Ould  Gunn  an'  under  professors  av  ye  stay  in  th'  acad 
emy,  so  ye  moight  as  well  begin  now." 

"You'll  laff." 

"Nivver  moind  that." 

"It  will  sp'ile  me  so  I  can't  sing.  If  I  couldn't  see  ye 
laff  I  might  do " 

"Dot  vos  all  righdt,"  declared  Hans.  "You  bet  my 
life  we  been  aple  to  feex  dot  britty  soon  right  avay  queek. 
Shust  gif  me  your  bockethanderkerchief." 

"Whut  you  want  of  it?" 

"Nefer  you  mindt  dot.     Shust  gif  me  to  id." 

The  country  boy  produced  the  handkerchief,  and 
Hans  quickly  folded  it  in  a  thick  strip  about  three  inches 
wide. 

"Now  I  feex  id  britty  shlick  so  you  don'd  see  us  laugh 
oudt  loudt,"  he  said,  as  he  quickly  tied  the  handkerchief 
over  the  boy's  eyes,  while  several  of  the  others  made 
Ephraim  submit  and  stand  with  his  little  fingers  still  glued 
to  the  seams  of  his  trousers. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  boy  from  Vermont  was  securely 
blindfolded. 

"Now  you  sing  dot  song,"  commanded  Hans. 

"Whut  shell  I  sing?" 

'  'Yankee  Doodle,'  begobs !"  cried  Barney.  "It's  pa 
triotic  songs  Ould  Gunn  admoires." 

"I  can't  git  the  tune,"  said  Ephraim,  "an'  I  don't  know 
the  words  of  only  jest  one  varse." 

"Well,  sing  pwhat  yez  know,  an'  kape  repeating  it  over 
an'  over  till  yez  are  told  to  stop." 

"Dot  vos  der  stuff.     Let  her  go,  Gallup  " 


Sport  With  a  Plebe.  225 

So  the  country  lad  opened  his  mouth  and  began  to 
sing  in  a  droning,  drawling  way: 

"Yankee  Dewdle  came  ter  taown 

'Long  with  Cap'n  Goodwin, 
An'  there  he  saw  the  boys  an'  gals 

As  thick  ez  hasty  poodin'." 

"Louder!"  commanded  several  voices. 

So  Ephraim  repeated  the  stanza,  singing  still  louder. 

"Dot  vos  petter,"  complimented  Hans;  "bud  id  don'd 
peen  loudt  enough  to  blease  Lieudenant  Cordan." 

"Louder!  louder!"  ordered  the  yearlings.  "Open  your 
mouth  and  let  the  sound  out.  You  can  never  expect  to 
sing  if  you  pen  the  words  up  in  such  a  cavern  as  that." 

This  time  Ephraim  shouted  the  words  at  the  tops  of 
his  lungs,  and  he  was  complimented  on  all  sides,  while 
Barney  Mulloy  hastily  said : 

"Kape  roight  at  it,  an'  kape  on  singing  till  ye're  towld 
t'  stop  by  me.  Ye  know  my  voice,  an'  don't  ye  moind 
another  thot  spakes  to  yez.  Av  he  kapes  bothering  av 
ye,  tell  him  to  let  ye  alone,  ur  you'll  kick  th'  back-strap  av 
his  trousers  clane  out  through  th'  top  av  his  head.  Oi'll 
shtand  by  yez.  Now,  let  her  go  again,  an'  kape  at  it." 

The  country  boy  began  once  more,  and  this  time  he 
bellowed  the  words  so  they  could  be  heard  for  a  mile. 

The  grinning  yearlings  lost  no  time  in  slipping  quietly 
away  from  that  locality,  and  taking  positions  at  a  distance, 
where  they  could  watch  what  followed. 

All  alone  in  the  street  in  front  of  his  tent  stood  the 
blindfolded  plebe,  bellowing  the  words  at  the  full  capacity 
of  his  voice,  and  repeating  them  over  and  over. 

In  a  very  few  seconds  Lieutenant  Gordan,  the  regular 
army  officer  at  the  academy,  came  marching  briskly 
down  the  street  in  the  dusk,  his  face  so  red  that  it  almost 


226  Sport  With  a  Plebe. 

seemed  to  glow  like  a  light.     Stopping  short  in  front  of 
the  lone  plebe,  he  called : 

"Sir!" 

Ephraim  kept  on  with 

"An'  there  he  saw  the  boys  an'  gals 
Ez  thick  ez  hasty  poodin'." 

"Sir !"  came  sharply  from  the  lieutenant. 
Ephraim  began  the  stanza  over  again,  roaring  it  louder 
than  before,  if  possible : 

"Yankee  Dewdle  came  to  taown 
'Long  with  Cap'n  Goodwin " 

"Sir!"  cried  Lieutenant  Gordan. 

"Git  aout!"  snorted  the  boy  from  Vermont.  "I'm 
here  ter  sing,  an'  I'm  goin'  ter  fill  ther  bill,  by  gum !" 

Then  he  began  at  the  first  of  the  stanza,  and  howled 
straight  through  it,  for  all  that  the  lieutenant  spoke  to 
him  twice. 

In  the  dusky  shadows  not  far  away  the  cadets  were 
convulsed  with  laughter  they  could  not  suppress. 

"Sir!"  thundered  Lieutenant  Gordan,  "you  are  making 
a  fool  of  yourself !" 

"Ef  you  don't  shut  up  an'  stop  interruptin'  me,  I'll  be 
gol  darned  ef  I  don't  kick  you  clean  inter  the  middle  uv 
next  week !  You  ain't  ther  feller  that  sot  me  ter  singin', 
fer  your  voice  is  of  a  diffrunt  color  than  his.  Naow  you 
keep  mum,  ur  I'll  take  this  handkerchief  off  my  eyes^ 
spit  on  my  hands,  an'  sail  right  into  you,  by  thunder !" 

Then  Ephraim  began  once  more : 

"Yankee  Dewdle  came  to  taown 
'Long  with " 

The  exasperated  lieutenant  snatched  the  handkerchief 
from  Ephraim's  eyes,  almost  bursting  with  rage. 


Sport  With  a  Plebe.  227 

"If  you  don't  quit  this  howling,  I'll  lodge  you  in  the 
guardhouse !"  he  declared. 

The  boy  came  near  smashing  the  lieutenant  with  his 
fist,  and  then,  seeing  who  it  was,  he  gave  a  gasp  and 
nearly  fainted  on  the  spot. 

"Where's  them  fellers  ?"  he  murmured,  looking  around 
for  his  tormentors.  "By  gum !  they've  slipped !  I've  bin 
fooled !" 

After  giving  him  some  sharp  advice,  the  lieutenant  sent 
him  into  his  tent,  and  departed. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

AN  OPEN  INSULT. 

The  spirit  of  mischief  seemed  to  break  loose  in  the 
camp  that  night.  A  dozen  times  were  some  of  the  plebes 
hauled  out  of  bed  and  slid  around  the  streets  enveloped 
in  their  own  blankets,  ridden  on  a  tentpole,  or  an  old 
wheelbarrow,  tossed  in  tent  flies,  or  nearly  smothered 
with  smoke  that  filled  their  tents  from  the  burning  of 
some  vile-smelling  stuff. 

Time  after  time  was  the  guard  turned  out  to  capture 
the  perpetrators  of  these  tricks,  but  still  alarm  followed 
alarm,  and  not  one  of  the  jokers  was  captured. 

Every  inspection  seemed  to  show  the  older  cadets  all 
in  their  beds  and  sleeping  with  amazing  soundness,  con 
sidering  the  racket  that  was  going  on. 

Lieutenant  Gordan  was  at  his  wits'  end,  for  never  had 
there  been  such  an  outbreak  in  camp  since  his  coming  to 
Fardale,  and  he  began  to  believe  there  was  something 
radically  wrong  about  the  system  as  enforced  at  the 
academy. 

The  professors  were  driven  from  their  tents  and  com 
pelled  to  take  refuge  in  the  academy  in  order  to  get  any 
sleep,  and  they  all  felt  like  resigning  their  positions  and 
seeking  occupations  in  other  walks  of  life. 

At  West  Point  such  things  were  once  possible,  but  the 
introduction  of  long  rows  of  gas  lamps  put  an  end  to  it 
by  illuminating  the  camp  so  that  the  pranks  could  not 
be  performed  without  the  greatest  danger  of  detection. 


An  Open  Insult.'  229 

At  Fardale  the  gas  lamps  were  missing,  and  a  dark 
night  during  the  first  weeks  of  each  yearly  encampment 
was  certain  to  be  a  wild  night. 

It  happened  that  Fred  Davis  had  been  assigned  to 
guard  duty  on  this  particular  night,  and,  for  a  long  time, 
none  of  the  disturbances  took  place  on  his  post. 

At  length,  however,  when  things  had  been  quiet  for 
an  ominous  length  of  time,  Fred  saw  three  figures  com 
ing  swiftly  toward  him  through  the  darkness. 

"Halt!"  he  commanded,  promptly.  "Who  comes 
there?" 

"The  corporal  of  the  guard,"  was  the  reply,  given  in  a 
muffled  tone  of  voice. 

"Advance,  corporal  of  the  guard,  and  give  the  counter- 
sign." 

Then  followed  a  suspicious  hesitation.  Fred  fancied 
he  heard  a  faint  sound  in  his  rear,  but,  before  he  could 
make  a  move,  a  blanket  was  thrown  over  his  head,  and 
he  was  hurled  to  the  ground. 

He  struggled  with  surprising  strength,  but  he  was 
helpless  in  the  hands  of  his  assailants.  His  musket  had 
been  torn  from  his  hands,  and  he  seemed  to  feel  some- 
.  thing  slitting  and  tearing  his  clothing.  Once  he  was 
struck  or  kicked  with  great  violence. 

After  a  few  moments  of  this  treatment,  Davis  managed 
to  get  his  head  clear  of  the  enfolding  blanket  and  shout 
for  help.  His  cries  produced  another  alarm  in  camp,  and 
his  assailants  quickly  took  to  flight,  leaving  him  in  a 
badly  battered  condition. 

Fred  got  upon  his  feet,  and  was  standing  dazed  and  be 
wildered  when  the  corporal  of  the  guard  actually  ap 
peared,  with  the  guard  at  his  back. 

Lieutenant  Gordan,  who  had  been  on  the  alert  for  an- 


230  An  Open  Insult. 

other  outbreak,  showed  up  at  the  same  time;  but  Davis 
was  so  bewildered  that  it  was  several  moments  before  he 
could  answer  their  questions. 

It  was  finally  found  that  he  had  been  robbed  of  his  gun, 
his  belt  slashed,  and  his  uniform  cut  in  half  a  dozen  dif 
ferent  places,  so  it  was  quite  ruined. 

By  this  time  Lieutenant  Gordan  was  thoroughly  angry,1 
and  he  declared  he  would  give  his  time  and  attention  dur 
ing  the  next  week  to  the  discovery  and  punishment  of  the 
perpetrators  of  the  outrage. 

"There  is  going  to  be  an  end  to  this  hazing  of  sentries," 
he  asserted.  "Somebody  shall  be  made  an  example  of, 
and  we'll  see  if  that  will  do  any  good." 

Fred  was  told  to  go  to  his  tent  and  get  to  bed,  and  he 
was  only  too  glad  to  do  so. 

Somehow,  in  the  morning,  the  report  got  around  that 
Davis  had  been  stabbed  or  cut  in  the  attack  upon  him. 
Frank  lost  no  time  in  investigating,  finding  his  fag  at 
tending  to  duties  about  his  own  tent. 

In  answer  to  Merriwell's  questions,  Fred  said  he  had 
not  been  cut  in  any  way,  but  his  clothing  had  been  muti 
lated,  and  he  had  been  robbed  of  his  gun,  cartridge-box 
and  bayonet-scabbard.  He  showed  Frank  his  clothing, 
and  the  latter  was  scarcely  less  indignant  than  Lieutenant 
Gordan  had  been. 

"This  is  not  fun,"  Merriwell  declared.  "It  is  malicious 
and  wanton  brutality,  and  I  fancy  I  can  lay  my  hands  on 
the  fellow  who  was  at  the  bottom  of  it." 

The  search  for  Fred's  rifle  had  proved  unsuccessful, 
and  so  he  was  given  another  from  the  armory,  while  a 
new  uniform  was  ordered  for  him. 

Lieutenant  Gordan  came  around,  and  questioned  the 
unlucky  plebe  again  concerning  the  assault  upon  him ;  but 


An  Open  Insult.  231 

it  had  been  too  dark  for  him  to  recognize  any  of  his  as 
sailants,  and  the  voice  of  the  fellow  who  had  announced 
himself  as  corporal  of  the  guard  had  been  muffled  and 
disguised. 

It  now  began  to  appear  that  the  unusual  activity  during 
the  night  had  been  for  the  purpose  of  drawing  the  atten 
tion  to  the  side  of  the  camp  opposite  Davis'  post,  so  that 
the  attack  upon  him  might  be  carried  out  successfully. 

The  boys  found  enough  to  think  of  and  talk  about  dur 
ing  such  opportunities  as  were  given  them. 

At  dinner  the  conversation  was  almost  entirely  about 
the  tumultuous  events  of  the  night,  and,  by  keeping  eyes 
and  ears  open,  Frank  sought  to  discover  who  knew  the 
most  concerning  those  things  which  had  taken  place. 

Bascomb  seemed  in  high  spirits.  Over  and  over,  in  a 
sarcastic  way,  he  repeated  Lieutenant  Gordan's  assertion 
that  such  actions  were  outrageous,  and  must  be  stopped, 
appearing  very  grave  as  he  did  so,  but  winking  slyly  to 
some  particular  friend. 

And  Frank  noted  every  fellow  to  whom  Bascomb 
winked. 

The  big  fellow  could  not  keep  his  bullying  propensities 
suppressed,  and  the  sight  of  Fred  Davis  seemed  to  arouse 
him.  Singling  out  the  little  plebe,  he  took  a  station  at 
the  opposite  side  of  the  table,  observing : 

"It  is  really  too  bad  anybody  should  haze  a  pretty  boy 
like  him.  Look  at  the  tender  blue  in  his  eyes,  and  the 
delicate  pink  in  his  cheeks.  Isn't  he  just  too  sweet  to 
live !  Oh,  the  fellows  won't  do  a  thing  to  him  here — not 
a  thing!" 

Fred  paid  no  attention  to  Bascomb,  although  the  hot 
blood  rushed  to  his  face. 

The  bully  continued : 


232  An  Open  Insult. 

"Before  you,  gentlemen,  masticating  his  rations,  sits  a 
section  edition  of  the  late  lamented  George  Washington. 
Those  who  are  conversant  with  history  are  aware  that 
little  George  found  it  impossible  to  tell  a  lie.  Evidently 
Baby  has  heard  of  George,  and  seeks  to  emulate  the 
Father  of  his  Country,  for  he  also  finds  it  extremely  dif 
ficult  to  tell  a  lie.  Gentlemen,  you  may,  at  this  very  mo 
ment,  be  regarding  a  future  president  of  the  United 
States.  The  thought  should  overcome  you  with  awe." 

Bascomb's  friends  snickered,  and  the  big  yearling  pro 
ceeded  to  address  himself  directly  to  Davis. 

"Look  here,  Baby,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  to  tell  us  just 
what  happened  to  you  last  night.  We  want  to  know  the 
exact  facts  of  the  case." 

With  a  trace  of  spirit,  Davis  looked  up,  and  asked : 

"Don't  you,  sir?" 

"Don't  I  what  ?"  demanded  Bascomb,  harshly. 

"Don't  you  know  ?" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?    How  should  I  know?" 

"I  thought  you  might  remember,"  said  Fred,  in  a  low 
tone. 

That  was  enough  to  give  the  bully  his  opportunity  to 
rave  and  bluster. 

"That  is  an  insult!"  he  fiercely  declared,  glaring  at 
the  little  plebe  as  if  he  longed  to  devour  him.  "Such  an 
insinuation  is  an  insult !  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  I  had 
anything  to  do  with  the  assault  upon  you  ?" 

"I  don't  mean  to  say  anything  more  about  it." 

"Oh,  you  don't?  That  is  actually  an  open  defiance. 
But  I  am  going  to  put  a  question  to  you,  and  see  if  you 
will  refuse  to  answer  me.  What  do  you  know  about  it  ?" 

"I  know  enough  to  mind  my  own  business." 


An  Open  Insult.  233 

Frank  laughed  softly,  and  it  was  Bascomb's  turn  to 
flush  angrily. 

"You  are  very  cool  about  it,"  grated  the  bully,  reach 
ing  out  and  picking  up  a  glass  of  water.  "Perhaps  this 
will  make  you  still  cooler." 

He  flung  the  water  full  and  fair  into  Fred  Davis'  face. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

FOR   THE   UNDER    DOG. 

In  «n  instant  every  lad  save  Davis  was  on  his  feet,  for 
all  knew  what  naturally  followed  an  act  of  this  sort. 

But  the  natural  order  of  events  did  not  take  place. 
Davis  slowly  and  carefully  wiped  the  water  from  his  face 
with  the  napkin.  His  hand  trembled  a  little,  and  his 
cheeks  were  pale,  the  color  having  fled  from  them  in  a 
moment. 

Frank  had  taken  a  quick  step  forward,  ready  to  see  fair 
play. 

Although  it  was  generally  known  that  Davis  was  a 
peaceful  sort  of  a  fellow,  who  would  not  get  into  trouble 
if  he  could  avoid  it,  still  all  expected  he  would  show  re 
sentment  at  this  open  insult. 

Bascomb  stood  with  an  insolent  sneer  on  his  face,  wait 
ing.  As  Davis  made  no  move,  he  broke  into  a  short 
laugh. 

"There's  courage  for  you,  gentlemen !"  he  said,  scorn 
fully.  "Why,  the  fellow  hasn't  as  much  spirit  as  a  dead 
mouse !" 

Frank  was  about  to  speak,  when  Davis  slowly  rose  to 
his  feet. 

"I  suppose  I  am  expected  to  fight  in  a  case  like  this," 
he  said,  his  voice  shaking. 

Some  of  the  cadets  who  were  always  eager  to  see  a 
fight  of  any  sort,  no  matter  how  unevenly  the  antagonists 
might  be  matched,  quickly  said : 


For  the  Under  Dog.  235 

"That's  right.    You  must  fight." 

"I  have  never  done  such  a  thing  in  my  life,"  declared 
Davis ;  "but  I  do  feel  like  it  now.  You  have  laughed  at 
me  because  I  promised  my  mother  that  I  would  not  lie, 
and  I  will  give  you  a  chance  to  laugh  again.  I  promised 
her  I  would  not  fight,  and  I  shall  keep  my  word." 

"Baby  boy !" 

"Mamma's  petsie !" 

"Softie!" 

These  terms  of  derision  came  from  several  sources, 
and  Frank  was  swift  to  note  every  one. 

Bascomb  laughed  again. 

"You  are  altogether  too  good  to  live,  Baby !"  he  said. 
"You  make  me  sick!" 

Frank  had  kept  quiet  as  long  as  was  possible.  He 
saw  that  Davis  did  not  mean  to  fight,  and  he  made  a  re 
solve  to  save  the  plebe  if  possible  by  taking  up  his 
quarrel. 

With  two  swift  steps  Merriwell  confronted  Bascomb. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  speaking  rapidly,  and  in  a  low  tone,  "I 
have  been  a  witness  to  this  entire  affair." 

"Well?"  sneered  the  big  yearling. 

"I  want  to  say  that  I  think  Davis  perfectly  right  in  re 
fusing  to  fight  you.  You  are  larger  and  older  than  he  is, 
you  have  nearly,  if  not  quite,  twice  as  much  strength  as 
he  has,  and  your  reputation  is  that  of  a  slugger.  He 
would  not  stand  a  show  with  you,  and  you  know  it,  for 
which  reason  you  have  seemed  to  select  him  as  an  object 
of  your  bullying  attentions." 

Frank  looked  Bascomb  straight  in  the  eye,  and  the  big 
fellow's  face  grew  black  with  anger. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  muttered. 

"I  want  to  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you,  and  I  am  going 
to  do  so.  Davis  has  been  reared  like  a  gentleman,  and 


236  For  the  Under  Dog. 

it  is  but  natural  that  he  should  recoil  from  contact  with 
such  as  you." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  I  am  no  gentleman  ?" 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  mean  to  say,  sir.  No  gentle 
man  ever  plays  the  bully,  as  you  have  done." 

Bascomb  made  a  move,  as  if  he  would  do  something 
desperate,  and,  on  the  instant,  two  of  his  particular 
friends  caught  hold  of  him,  saying  hastily : 

"Not  now,  old  man — not  here !  It  would  spoil  every 
thing." 

Now  Bascomb  was  not  longing  for  a  fight  with  Merri- 
well,  and  he  would  gladly  have  done  something  to  cause 
the  officers  to  interfere;  but,  to  his  regret,  he  saw  that 
he  had  been  too  slow  about  it.  So  he  sullenly  muttered : 

"All  right,  fellows ;  I  won't  smash  him  here." 

"But  you'll  meet  him  later — you'll  have  to,"  eagerly 
said  Rupert  Reynolds,  a  fellow  who  made  a  pretension  of 
being  "sporty,"  and  who  was  a  great  admirer  of  game- 
cocka  and  prize-fighters,  for  which  reason  he  had  grown 
very  friendly  with  the  slugger  of  the  academy.  "This 
affai^  must  be  settled  in  the  regular  manner." 

"I  didn't  suppose  I'd  have  to  fight  the  whole  academy," 
came  sulkily  from  the  bully.     "If  every  sneak  in  schoot- 
had  somebody  to  step  in  and  fight    his    battles,  things 
would  soon  undergo  a  change." 

As  he  said  this,  he  cast  a  contemptuous  glance  at  Davis, 
who  was  looking  on,  in  a  helpless  way. 

"You  may  fight  or  not,  as  you  like,"  said  Frank, 
serenely.  "But  you  know  what  I  think  of  a  bully  who  is 
too  cowardly  to  tackle  a  fellow  he  fears  may  be  his 
match." 

And  then,  unmindful  that  Bascomb  made  another  move 
and  was  held  back  by  his  friends,  Frank  turned  his  back 
and  walked  round  the  table  to  Davis. 


For  the  Under  Dog.  237 

"Come,"  he  said,  "we  will  go." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  applause  when  he  turned 
away,  with  Davis  at  his  side. 

Still  Frank  knew  very  well  that  he  had  taken  an  un 
popular  stand  by  espousing  the  cause  of  a  plebe  who  did 
not  seem  to  have  nerve  enough  to  stand  up  for  his  own 
rights,  and  he  was  breaking  all  precedent  and  traditions 
by  a  show  of  friendliness  for  his  own  fag. 

However,  Frank  was  a  lad  who  firmly  believed  in 
standing  by  the  right,  no  matter  whether  the  cause  were 
popular  or  not,  and  his  sympathy  was  invariably  with 
"the  under  dog  in  the  fight."  He  could  not  bear  to  see 
the  weak  oppressed  by  the  strong. 

His  generous  heart  had  gone  out  to  the  lad  who  had 
been  so  tenderly  and  delicately  reared,  and  who  declined 
to  lie  or  fight  because  he  had  promised  his  mother  he 
would  not  do  such  things.  Somehow  Davis  did  not  seem 
at  all  like  a  "sissy-boy"  to  Merriwell,  who  believed  the 
plebe  had  a  great  deal  of  moral  courage,  if  he  were  not 
physically  brave.  And  Frank  had  come  to  believe  that 
moral  courage  is  a  higher  qualification  than  physical 
courage. 

In  this  world  there  are  two  classes  of  heroes,  and  one 
class  is  likely  to  be  grievously  misunderstood.  First 
comes  the  physical  hero,  the  fellow  who  defiantly  faces 
dangers  that  are  sufficient  to  turn  to  ice  the  blood  of  an 
other,  and  yet  may  succumb  to  some  simple  temptation 
that  he  knows  will  lead  him  into  wrongdoing. 

Then  comes  the  moral  hero,  who  resists  the  strongest 
temptations  to  do  wrong,  who  fights  and  conquers  in 
many  a  silent  battle  with  his  passions  and  desires,  who 
bravely  faces  ridicule  and  scorn  because  he  is  confident 
that  he  is  doing  right,  yet  who  quails,  cowers,  trembles, 
and  flees  in  the  face  of  physical  danger. 


238  For  the  Under  Dog 

Who  will  say  which  is  the  greater  hero? 

As  soon  as  they  were  in  the  open  air,  Davis  turned  to 
Merriwell,  his  voice  shaking,  as  he  said : 

"You  must  not  fight  with  that  fellow  on  my  account." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Frank. 

"Because  you  must  not.  It  would  not  be  right.  He  is 
big  and  strong " 

"But  I  am  not  afraid  of  him." 

"That  may  be  true,  and  still  it  is  not  right  for  you  to 
fight  in  my  place.  That  will  not  help  me  any.  I  can  see 
that  I  will  not  be  thought  any  better  of  if  you  fight  in  my 
place.  You  must  not  fight  him !" 

Fred  was  very  agitated  and  excited. 

"The  matter  rests  entirely  with  Bascomb  now,"  said 
Frank,  calmly.  "I  have  expressed  my  opinion  of  him  in 
public,  and  I  shall  be  forced  to  back  up  my  words  if  he 
challenges  me." 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

BIRDS    OF    A    FEATHER. 

v 

Reynolds  and  Bascomb  came  from  dinner  arm  in  arm. 

"Your  time  has  come  to  knock  out  this  fellow  Merri- 
well,  Hugh,"  declared  the  big  fellow's  sporty  companion. 
"You'll  have  to  do  it." 

"It  looks  that  way,"  admitted  Bascomb,  but  there  was 
something  ludicrously  dubious  in  both  his  face  and 
voice. 

"Looks  that  way !"  exclaimed  Rupert,  in  a  fiery  manner. 
"Of  course  it  looks  that  way.  There's  nothing  else  to  be 
done,  and  I  should  think  you'd  be  well  satisfied  with  the 
opportunity." 

"But  I  am  not  sure  I  can  do  it,"  confessed  the  bully, 
hesitatingly. 

"Do  it !  Why,  you  ought  to  do  it  with  one  hand  tied 
behind  your  back." 

But  Bascomb  was  not  so  easily  reassured. 

"I  have  boxed  with  him,"  said  the  big  fellow,  "and  I\ 
know  he  is  not  easy  fruit  for  anybody." 

"You  boxed  in  the  gym  ?" 

"Yes." 

"And  there  it  was  necessary  to  conform  to  certain 
rules." 

"Of  course." 

"That  wasn't  much  like  a  genuine  fight." 

"I  know  it;  but  I  found  it  impossible  to  hit  him  a 
soaker  with  my  left.  He  is  up  to  all  the  tricks." 


240  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

"That's  all  right.  Fight  him  in  the  evening,  where  you 
are  not  liable  to  be  interrupted  till  you  have  finished  him. 
The  darkness  will  be  an  advantage  to  you,  for  he  cannot 
see  to  guard  or  avoid  all  your  heavy  blows,  and  you  will 
soon  do  him  up.  If  you  work  it  right,  you  can  get  him 
into  a  straight  fight  from  start  to  finish,  so  it  will  not  be  a 
matter  of  rounds,  which  would  accrue  to  his  advantage. 
Once  you  get  at  him,  you  can  follow  him  up  till  he  is 
done  for." 

Reynolds'  words  gave  Bascomb  new  courage. 

"I  don't  know  but  you  are  right,"  he  said.  "The  dark 
ness  would  be  to  my  advantage,  and  I  ought  to  be  able 
to  get  in  a  knockout  blow  sooner  or  later.  By  Jupiter ! 
I  believe  I  can  polish  him  off !" 

"Of  course  you  can!"  exclaimed  his  delighted  com 
panion.  "Merriwell  has  put  on  a  big  front,  and  suc 
ceeded  in  making  everybody  believe  he  is  a  terror,  but  the 
time  has  come  to  cook  his  goose.  Give  him  a  good  lick 
ing,  and  he  will  not  be  so  high  and  mighty.  His  popu 
larity  will  mighty  soon  begin  to  wane." 

"You  do  not  seem  to  love  him." 

"Not  much!  The  cad  has  called  me  down  on  parade 
several  times." 

"Me,  too." 

"I'd  like  to  get  a  grip  on  him  that  would  disgrace  him 
and  cause  his  dismissal." 

"You  are  not  the  first  fellow  who  has  thought  that 
way,  but,  somehow,  the  cad  has  the  luck  to  get  out  of 
every  trap  set  for  him,  and  he  turns  the  tables  on  any 
body  who  tries  to  trap  him." 

"He  can't  be  that  lucky  always." 

"I  should  hope  not." 

"Shall  I  act  for  you?" 

Bascomb  hesitated.     Something  told  him   that    Frank 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  241 

could  fight  quite  as  well  with  his  bare  fists  as  he  could 
box  with  gloves.  But  how  could  he  retreat?  If  he  did 
not  meet  Merriwell  he  would  be  regarded  with  scorn  by 
every  one,  and,  like  Wat  Snell,  who  had  refused  to  meet 
Bart  Hodge,  be  ostracised  in  the  school. 

"Davis  ought  to  fight  me  first,"  he  muttered. 

"Oh,  hang  that  plebe!"  cried  Reynolds,  contemp-* 
tuously.  "He  doesn't  count  with  Merriwell.  You  can 
attend  to  him  when  you  have  disposed  of  Merriwell.  If 
you  go  into  this  business  determined  to  finish  the  fellow, 
you'll  be  sure  to  do  it.  Knock  him  out  some  way,  fair  or 
foul." 

"I  suppose  a  fellow  might  get  at  him  foul  in  the  dark, 
and  not  be  detected." 

"Sure.  Only  he  wants  to  be  slick  about  it.  Say,  I 
can  tell  you  a  trick." 

"  'Sh !  Don't  speak  too  loud ;  Dunnerwust  and  Mulloy 
are  a  little  distance  behind,  and  they're  both  particular 
friends  to  Merriwell." 

So  Reynolds  lowered  his  voice,  and  talked  rapidly  to 
Bascomb  in  a  low  tone.  The  bully  listened  eagerly, 
finally  slapping  his  thigh  and  crying: 

"That's  the  scheme !     That  will  do  it !" 

"Shall  I  see  him,  and  make  arrangements  for  to 
night?" 

"Yes;  but  wait  till  the  last  minute — take  him  after 
supper." 

"All  right.     It's  settled  then?" 

"All  settled ;  and  Merriwell  will  have  a  dandy  pair  of 
eyes  on  him  to-morrow !" 

Dunnerwust  and  Mulloy  had  been  watching  Bascomb 
and  Reynolds. 

"Vot  you  pelief  dose  shneaks  vos  down  to,  ain'd  id?" 
asked  the  Dutch  boy. 


242  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

"Well,  Handy,  me  b'y,"  replied  Barney,  "it's  me  proi~ 
vate  opinion,  which  Oi  don't  moind  publicly  ixprissing, 
thot  they're  plannin'  mischief." 

"Yaw,  I  pets  me  your  boots  you  vos  righd.  Dey  don'd 
haf  their  headts  togeder  near  vor  nottings,  py  shimminy !" 

"Oi'd  loike  to  take  th'  spalpanes  by  th'  ears  an'  rap 
,  their  hids  togither  wance,"  declared  the  Irish  lad.  "Oi'd 
make  thim  see  stars." 

At  this  moment  Bascomb  clapped  his  thigh  and  cried : 

"That's  the  scheme !     That  will  do  it !" 

"Uf  dot  don'd  mean  somedings,  Parney,  you  vos  a 
liar !"  exclaimed  Hans. 

"Av  course  it  do." 

"I  pelief  me  dot  means  drouble  vor  Frankie." 

"Oi  wouldn't  wonder,  Handy." 

"You  und  me  hat  pesser  dell  him  to  keep  his  vedder  eye 
vide  open  tight,  ain'd  id?" 

"Thot's  pwhat  we  will,  me  b'y.  An'  Oi  propose  to 
watch  thim  spalpanes  a  bit  mesilf.  Oi  moight  catch  'em 
at  something  crooked,  Oi  belave." 

So  it  came  about  that  Frank  was  warned  that  Bascomb 
and  Reynolds  had  apparently  been  plotting. 

Frank  acted  as  first  sergeant,  and  that  very  afternoon 
both  Bascomb  and  Reynolds  appeared  in  ranks  with  their 
belts  disarranged.  This  was  an  open  defiance,  and,  of 
course,  was  something  Merriwell  could  not  overlook. 

"Fall  out,  Bascomb,  and  arrange  your  belt,"  he  com 
manded,  sharply.  "You,  too,  Reynolds.  You  know 
very  well  that  you  have  no  right  in  ranks  in  that  shape. 
Fallout!" 

Bascomb  and  Reynolds  obeyed  in  a  sullen  way,  the  big 
fellow  beginning  to  mutter. 

Merriwell  had  started  back  to  his  post,  but  he  whirled 
sharply,  saying : 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  243 

"Silence,  sir !  This  is  the  third  time  I  have  been  com 
pelled  to  warn  you  against  muttering  in  ranks.  You  will 
be  severely  dealt  with  in  case  you  repeat  the  offense. " 

Once  more  he  turned,  but  he  had  not  taken  five  steps 
before  he  heard  some  one  say: 

"Who's  playing  the  bully  now !" 

Frank  turned  again,  but  Bascomb  did  not  appear  to 
have  spoken,  and  Reynolds  looked  innocent.  Having 
fixed  their  belts,  they  were  again  in  ranks,  standing  at 
ease. 

Not  a  word  did  Frank  say,  but  his  face  expressed  a 
great  deal.  No  further  murmurs  were  heard,  and  the 
drill  was  soon  in  progress ;  but  Frank  knew  his  enemies 
had  tried  to  place  him  in  a  false  light  before  the  corps. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

THE     CH  ALLEN  GE. 

That  night,  immediately  after  supper,  Rupert  Rey 
nolds  appeared  at  the  door  of  Frank's  tent. 

"Mr.  Merriwell,"  said  Reynolds,  stiffly,  "I  am  here  in 
the  interest  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Bascomb." 

"I  presumed  as  much,"  came  quietly  from  Frank's  lips. 

"You  have  openly  insulted  Mr.  Bascomb,  and  he  de 
mands  an  immediate  apology." 

Frank  whistled. 

"Is  that  all?"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  queer  twist  of  his 
face  and  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

"You  will  find  this  a  very  serious  matter,  sir,"  said 
Reynolds,  with  an  assumption  of  great  dignity. 

"Mr.  Bascomb  may  also  find  it  serious." 

"Will  you  apologize?" 

"You  may  tell  Mr.  Bascomb  that  I  will  apologize  to 
him  when  he  is  man  enough  to  apologize  to  Fred  Davis, 
and  publicly  acknowledge  that  he  treated  the  little  plebe 
in  an  unmanly  and  bullying  manner." 

Reynolds  made  a  scornful  gesture. 

"'Mr.  Bascomb  will  not  do  anything  of  the  kind !" 

"Very  well ;  I  shall  not  apologize  to  him." 

"Then  you  must  fight  him." 

"I  will  do  so  with  the  greatest  of  pleasure." 

"Oh,  you  won't  find  much  fun  in  it,"  sneered  Reynolds. 
"It  isn't  going  to  be  that  kind  of  a  fight.  Bascomb  is 
thirsting  for  your  life.  It  was  with  the  greatest  diffi- 


The  Challenge.  245 

culty  I  persuaded  him  not  to  challenge  you  to  fight  a 
duel  with  deadly  weapons.  He  said  he  would  take  satis 
faction  in  meeting  you  in  an  affair  of  honor  where  he 
could  run  a  blade  through  your  body  or  perforate  you 
with  a  bullet." 

Frank  whistled  again. 

"Why,  he  has  become  very  courageous  since  he  took  to 
bullying  boys !  He  is  really  bloodthirsty." 

"He  is  determined  to  square  accounts  with  you,  sir. 
He  says  you  have  been  boning  military  at  his  expense 
for  some  time,  just  to  show  your  authority." 

"Which  he  knows  is  absolutely  false,"  Frank  flashed 
back.  "I  have  reprimanded  him  when  compelled  to  do  so 
by  his  utter  disregard  of  what  is  right." 

"That  may  be  your  opinion ;  Mr.  Bascomb  thinks  dif 
ferently.  He  demands  that  this  fight  take  place  without 
delay." 

"The  sooner  the  better." 

"What  do  you  say  to  making  the  time  immediately 
after  dark?" 

"I  am  agreeable." 

"As  Lieutenant  Gordan  has  been  watching  the  old 
boathouse  of  late,  it  will  be  necessary  to  have  the  fight 
take  place  elsewhere." 

"All  right." 

"It  may  be  stopped  if  it  is  anywhere  in  this  vicinity." 

"Yes." 

"Black  Bluff  is  but  a  mile  away." 

"That's  all." 

"Why  not  go  there?" 

"The  place  is  satisfactory  to  me." 

"Then  it  is  settled.  Be  on  hand  with  your  second  as 
soon  as  possible  after  dark." 

"I  will." 


246  The  Challenge. 

Reynolds  walked  away  with  his  head  held  very  high 
and  his  neck  very  stiff. 

Of  course,  the  boys  had  been  expecting  Frank  would 
receive  a  challenge,  and  no  small  number  had  been 
watching  the  two  lads.  Immediately  on  Rupert's  depar 
ture,  Frank's  friends  came  swarming  around  him,  asking 
scores  of  questions. 

"Pwhat  did  th'  b'y  want  wid  yez,  Frankie  ?"  asked  Bar 
ney  Mulloy,  eagerly. 

"Oh,  not  much,"  smiled  Frank,  who  did  not  believe  in 
letting  the  entire  gathering  know  exactly  what  had  hap 
pened  and  what  was  going  to  take  place.  "He  informed 
me  that  Bascomb  demands  an  apology.  Of  course,  I  did 
not  apologize,  which  may  lead  Bascomb  to  challenge  me." 

"An'  he  didn't  challenge  yez  alridy?  Wurra!  wurra! 
Oi  thought  there  moight  be  a  foight  on  hand,  so  Oi  did." 

"Dot's  vot's  der  madder  mit  me,"  sighed  Hans  Dun- 
nerwust,  in  disappointment.  "It  vos  peen  so  long  alretty 
yet  since  I  haf  seen  a  scrap  dot  I  don'd  know  vot  it  vos." 

"G'wan  wid  yez,  Dutch !"  cried  Barney,  who  was  in  ill- 
humor  on  account  of  the  failure — as  he  supposed — of 
Bascomb  to  challenge  Merriwell.  "Thot  Yankee  from 
Vermont  called  yez  a  balloony  sausage  t'-day,  an'  ye 
nivver  did  a  thing.  Av  ye  wur  dying  fer  a  foight,  ye'd 
challenge  him.  Ye're  th'  biggest  coward  on  th'  face  av 
th'  earth.  Ye  give  me  distriss !" 

"Vos  dot  so !"  retorted  Hans.  "Don'd  you  pelieve  me ! 
Vos  id  my  blace  to  fight  mit  a  blebe?" 

"Of  course  it  is  yer  place,  ye  ignoramus." 

"Veil,  I  didn't  know  dot.  Maype  I  fight  him  some 
dime  pime-py  right  avay  soon  alretty  yet." 

"Oh,  no  ye  won't." 

"Von'tl?" 


The  Challenge.  247 

"No,  ye  won't  dare,  ye  Dutch  coward.  Av  ye  had  a 
bit  av  spunk  in  yer  body,  ye'd  challenge  him  to  wance." 

"Veil,  you  pet  me  my  boots  I  don'd  vos  a  coward,"  de 
clared  Hans,  emphatically.  "I'll  vight  dot  feller!" 

"Thot's  th'  shtuff,  me  b'y !"  cried  the  delighted  Barney. 
'"Let  me  take  th'  challenge." 

"Nod  py  a  plamed  sight!  I  don'd  vant  a  pog-drotter 
to  done  some  uf  dot  peesness  for  me,  ain'd  id?  Uf  I 
shoose  mein  second,  I  dakes  Vrankie  Merrivell  alretty!" 

For  all  that  he  had  serious  work  on  hand,  Frank  was 
ready  for  a  frolic,  and  he  instantly  said : 

"I  will  carry  your  challenge,  Hans.  You  may  depend 
on  me." 

"All  righd,  Vrankie,  my  poy ;  led  her  go." 

"You  wish  me  to  hunt  up  Ephraim  Gallup,  and  demand 
an  apology  or  a  fight  ?" 

"Yaw." 

"And  you  really  mean  it?" 

"Yaw." 

"Will  you  fight  if  he  agrees  to  meet  you?" 

"Yaw." 

"All  right.  There  can't  be  any  backing  out  now,  un 
derstand  that.  You  are  in  for  a  fight,  if  Gallup  doesn't 
apologize." 

"Yaw;  but  you  mighd  influence  him  to  abologize  uf 
you  couldt,  ain'd  id  ?" 

"It  would  not  be  proper  to  bring  any  undue  influence 
to  bear  on  him.  I  shall  carry  your  challenge  to  him  im 
mediately." 

As  Frank  started  to  find  Ephraim  Gallup,  Barney  Mul- 
loy  slipped  from  the  crowd  and  joined  him.  The  Irish 
lad's  eyes  were  full  of  mischief. 

"I  say,  Frankie,  me  b'y,"  he  said,  quickly,  "can't  we  put 


248  The  Challenge. 

up  a  job  on  thot  Dutchman,  an'  hiv  som'  fun  av  this,  Oi 
dunno?" 

"Leave  that  to  me,"  smiled  Frank.  "I  fancy  I  will  find 
a  way  to  get  plenty  of  sport  out  of  this  business.  You 
know  those  two  old  horse-pistols  that  are  hung  up  for 
relics  in  the  armory?" 

"Yis." 

"Go  for  them  yourself,  or  send  somebody  who  can  get 
them  immediately." 

"Pwhat  do  yez  want  wid  thim  ?" 

"I  will  show  you,  if  I  can  make  my  scheme  work." 

"Oi  belave  Oi  know,"  chuckled  the  fun-loving  Irish  lad. 
"Mursha !  Won't  thot  be  fun,  Oi  dunno !  Oi'll  hiv  thim 
roight  away,"  and  off  he  darted. 

As  Frank  expected,  he  found  Ephraim  once  more  sur 
rounded  by  a  mob  who  were  having  sport  at  his  expense. 
Fortunately  for  Merriwell's  scheme,  the  country  boy 
was  rather  angry,  and  felt  more  like  fighting  than  doing 
anything  else. 

"Mr.  Gallup,"  said  Frank,  as  he  forced  his  way  through 
the  throng  and  confronted  the  Vermonter,  "I  am  here  in 
behalf  of  a  friend  whom  you  have  sorely  insulted." 

"Git  aout  with  yer  nonsense!"  retorted  Ephraim.  "I 
wish  you'd  quit  yer  foolin'  an'  let  a  feller  alone." 

"You  will  discover  this  is  not  fooling,  sir,"  said  Frank, 
sternly.  "My  friend  demands  that  you  fight  him  imme 
diately.  Will  you  do  it?" 

"Wai,  I  be  twisted  if  I  don't !"  snorted  Ephraim,  as  he 
spat  on  his  hands  and  prepared  to  remove  his  coat. 
"Where  is  ther  consarned  critter?  I'll  bark  his  nose 
quicker'n  a  brindle  caow  kin  kick  over  a  pail  of  milk,  by 
gum!" 


CHAPTER  XLIIT. 

DOUGHTY      DUELIST. 

Ephraim  was  in  earnest. 

"Hold  on,"  said  Frank,  quickly,  "what  are  you  going 
to  do?" 

"Fight,  by  gum!" 

"But  you  can't  fight  here." 

"Why  not  ?" 

"You  would  be  arrested  and  placed  in  the  guard  tent." 

"Wai,  ef  a  feller  can't  fight,  whut  ye  makin'  all  this 
taowse  abaout  ?" 

"You  can  fight,  but  not  within  the  limits  of  the  camp. 
The  duel  must  take  place  outside." 

"Who  is  this  consarned  critter  that  says  I've  insulted 
him  ?" 

"Mr.  Dunnerwust." 

"Wai,  ef  he  wants  to  fight  me,  he'll  find  he  never  dun 
er  wust  thing." 

Frank  staggered  and  clutched  at  his  heart. 

"Don't!"  he  gasped.  "I'm  not  particularly  weak,  but 
I'm  not  strong  enough  to  stand  many  of  those." 

Ephraim  grinned  all  over  his  long  face. 

"Oh,  them  things  come  natteral  like  with  me,"  he  said. 
"I  kin  reel  'em  off  by  ther  yard  when  I  git  started.  Folks 
up  aour  away  say  I'm  ther  funniest  critter  that  ever 
growed  in  them  parts." 

"Well,  you  have  agreed  to  meet  Mr.  Dunnerwust?" 

"Yep." 


250  Doughty  Duelist. 

"The  meeting  must  take  place  without  delay,  so  there 
may  be  daylight  enough  for  its  consummation." 

"Is  that  anything  good  to  eat?" 

"What?" 

"Consummation." 

"Not  exactly." 

"Didn't  know  but  'twas.  Sally  Colander  up  aour  way 
she  went  to  Boston,  an'  when  she  kem  home  she  told 
abaout  havin'  consummation  soup,  ur  something  of  that 
sort.  Say,  you'd  oughter  seen  that  air  gal  arter  she  got 
back  from  Boston !  She  put  on  more  style  than  a  prize 
pig  at  a  caounty  fair,  by  gum !  Why,  you  couldn't  touch 
her  with  a  ten-foot  pole!  She  walked  as  ef  she'd  fell 
daown  an'  stepped  on  the  small  of  her  back,  and  she 
ripped  open  ther  sleeves  on  ev'ry  one  of  her  dresses,  an' 
bought  caliker  an'  stiffenin'  an'  stuff  ter  put  inter  'em  to 
make  'em  swell  aout  like  a  blowed-up  bladder.  I  tell  you 
she  did  cut  an  amazin'  fast  pace  in  aour  taown." 

"You  are  wandering  from  the  issue,"  said  Frank.  "I 
presume  you  will  be  ready  to  proceed  to  the  scene  of  the 
duel  in  a  few  moments  ?" 

"Ready  any  time." 

"All  right.     Choose  your  second." 

"Whut  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

"You  have  to  have  somebody  to  look  out  for  you  and 
see  that  you  have  fair  play." 

"By  chaowder !  Ephraim  Gallup  kin  look  aout  for  his- 
self,  an'  don't  you  fergit  it !" 

"But  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  you  have  a  second." 

"I'll  act  for  Mr.  Gallup,"  said  Sammy  Smiles.  "He 
may  depend  on  me  to  stand  behind  him  as  long  as  he 
stands  in  front  of  me." 

"You'll  do  well  ez  anyboddy." 

"All  right,  Mr.  Smiles,"  said  Frank,  with  a  wink  at 


Doughty  Duelist.  251 

Sammy.  "Come  aside,  and  we  will  make  all  arrange 
ments." 

It  did  not  take  long  to  make  arrangements ;  but,  as 
every  one  who  knew  about  it  was  anxious  to  see  the  fun, 
it  was  not  a  little  difficult  for  them  all  to  get  out  of  camp 
without  attracting  too  much  attention.  There  was  a 
strip  of  woods  close  by,  however,  and  the  boys  succeeded 
in  vanishing  into  this  cover  one  by  one,  after  which  they 
soon  hastened  to  the  spot  where  the  encounter  between 
Dunnerwust  and  Gallup  was  to  take  place. 

The  seconds  took  good  care  to  have  the  two  principals 
on  hand,  and  Barney  Mulloy  was  there  with  the  old 
horse-pistols,  which  he  kept  carefully  concealed. 

Frank  took  Hans  aside  and  said : 

"This  affair  has  assumed  a  much  more  serious  aspect 
than  seemed  possible  at  first." 

"Vos  dot  Yankee  abologized  alretty  yet  ?"  asked  Hans, 
anxiously. 

"Far  from  it." 

The  Dutch  boy  gave  a  groan  of  dismay,  but  stiffened 
up  to  say : 

"Dot  seddles  his  coose !  I  knocks  uf  him  der  sduffins 
oudt" 

"But  he  refused  to  fight  that  way,  and,  as  he  is  the 
challenged  party,  I  was  forced  to  allow  him  to  select  the 
weapons.  He  chose  pistols." 

"Bistols  ?"  gasped  Hans,  turning  pale. 

"Yes." 

"Dot  vos  murter  in  der  virst  degree!  I  don't  meed 
dot  veller  mit  bistols!" 

"But  you  will  have  to  meet  him  now.  If  you  refuse, 
you  will  be  drummed  out  of  school — you  will  be  tarred 
and  feathered." 

"Bud  I  don'd  like  dot  peesness  uf  sdanding  oop  to  be 


252  Doughty  Duelist. 

shod  ad  mit  a  pullet  oudt  uf  a  bistol.  Somepody  mighd 
ged  hurt,  ain'd  id?" 

"Oh,  there's  no  danger  that  you'll  get  hurt  any  more 
than  to  have  a  bullet  through  your  head." 

"Vot  vos  dot?"  gurgled  Hans.  "A  pullet  drough  mein 
headt.  Shimminy  Gristmas!  Uf  dot  don'd  vas  pad 
enough,  vot  you  vant  ?  Oxcuse  me !" 

"Now,  don't  show  the  white  feather,"  urged  Frank. 
"That  Yankee  has  done  this  to  scare  you.  I  don't  be 
lieve  he  really  thinks  you  will  dare  meet  him  with  pistols, 
and  so  he  is  going  to  make  a  laughing  stock  of  you." 

"Vos  dot  his  game?  Veil,  I  pets  you  your  life  he 
makes  der  piggest  misdake  vot  he  nefer  seen." 

"That's  the  stuff!  If  you  brace  right  up  and  pretend 
you  are  eager  to  fight  with  pistols,  the  chances  are  ten  to 
one  he'll  back  down  before  the  word  is  given  to  fire." 

"Veil,  uf  dot  veller  don'd  dink  I  vos  apout  grazy  for 
dot  tuel,  you  can  kick  me  mit  der  neck  in." 

Frank  saw  that  he  had  fixed  it  all  right  with  Hans,  and 
he  wondered  what  success  Sammy  Smiles  was  having 
with  his  second. 

Sammy  was  not  finding  it  very  easy  to  convince 
Ephraim  it  was  his  duty  to  fight  a  genuine  duel  with  pis 
tols,  and  he  was  talking  swiftly,  for  it  was  past  sunset, 
and  would  become  dark  in  a  very  short  time. 

"I  be  hanged  ef  this  air  ain't  ther  biggest  scrape  I  was 
ever  in!"  gasped  the  lank  country  boy,  wiping  the  cold 
sweat  from  his  forehead.  "I  wish  I'd  stayed  away  frum 
this  thunderin'  skewl,  an'  bin  contented  ter  keep  right  on 
hoein'  'taturs  an'  cuttin'  grass  daown  on  dad's  old  farm. 
Say,  ain't  ther  no  way  this  air  matter  kin  be  settled  up 
'thout  shewtin'?" 

"It's'  too  late  for  that  now.  You  have  accepted 
Dutchy's  challenge,  and  you'll  have  to  fight  this  duel." 


Doughty  Duelist.  253 

"I  never  was  so  thunderin'  scat  in  all  my  life,  by  gum ! 
My  knees  don't  feel  strong  enough  to  hold  me  up.  Haow 
duz  a  feller  feel  when  he's  goin'  ter  faint  away  ?" 

"Oh,  you're  not  going  to  faint.  That's  what  the 
Dutchman's  counting  on.  He  wants  to  scare  you  out  of 
it.  He's  even  made  his  boasts  that  you  Yankees  haven't 
any  courage,  and  that  you'll  run." 

"Oh,  he  has,  has  he?"  grated  Ephraim.  "Bust  his 
skin !" 

"He  doesn't  believe  you'll  dare  fight  him,"  continued 
Sammy,  concealing  a  grin  with  his  hand.  "That's  what 
he's  counting  on.  If  you  put  on  a  bold  front,  you'll  scare 
him  out  of  his  shoes.  I'll  bet  he'll  run  away  before  the 
word  is  given  to  fire." 

"Think  so?"  asked  the  Vermonter,  eagerly.  "Do  ye 
really?" 

"Of  course.  Look  how  much  more  of  him  there  is 
than  there  is  of  you.  Why,  you'd  be  sure  to  hit  him  the 
first  shot,  while  he  has  not  one  chance  in  a  hundred  of 
hitting  you.  He  has  been  chuckling  over  the  way  your 
long  legs  will  look  when  you  run  away." 

"That  settles  it,  by  the  jumping  blizzards !  Give  me 
holt  of  that  air  hoss-pistil !  I'll  show  him  whuther  a 
Yankee'll  run  ur  not,  by  chaowder !" 

"That's  the  stuff !"  complimented  the  delighted  Sammy, 
reaching  up  to  pat  the  tall  plebe  on  the  back.  "Stick  to 
that,  and  you  will  scare  him  into  convulsions.  You  must 
look  as  fierce  and  desperate  as  you  can,  so  he'll  think  you 
are  thirsting  for  his  gore." 

The  preliminaries  were  soon  over,  and  the  valiant 
duelists  were  placed  facing  each  other  at  a  distance  of 
fifteen  paces.  The  old  pistols,  loaded  with  heavy  charges 
of  powder,  but  minus  bulletSjt  were  thrust  into  their 
hands. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

: 

A  COMEDY  DUEL. 

Both  Hans  and  Ephraim  were  ghastly  pale.  The 
.Dutch  lad's  teeth  were  chattering,  and  the  Yankee  boy's 
knees  shook  beneath  him.  But  both  tried  to  put  on  a 
bold  front. 

"Are  ye  ready,  jintlemin?"  demanded  Barney  Mulloy, 
who  had  been  chosen  to  give  the  word. 

"Vait  a  moment,"  commanded  Hans,  waving  his  hand 
frantically  at  Barney.  "I  vos  goin'  to  gif  dot  feller  a 
shance  to  safe  his  life.  Uf  he  vants  to  abologize  now  I 
vont  shood  him  drough  der  heart  mit  a  pullet." 

"Hurry  up  this  business !"  blustered  Ephraim,  waving 
the  big  pistol.  "If  ye  fool  around  here  all  night  it  will 
git  so  thunderin'  dark  I  can't  see  ter  hit  ther  middle  but 
ton  on  the  Dutchman's  coat." 

"Vos  you  goin'  to  abologize?"  shouted  Hans. 

"Be  you  goin'  to  run  away  ?"  demanded  Ephraim. 

"Uf  you  don'd  abologize,  I  voss  a  dead  man,"  cried  the 
Dutch  lad,  threateningly. 

"Ef  you  don't  run  away,  you're  a  dead  man,"  declared 
the  Vermonter. 

Now  it  happened  that  Sammy  Smiles  had  brought 
along  some  stale  eggs  which  he  had  been  keeping  for 
some  festive  occasion,  and  he  had  given  one  of  them  tfl 
Frank,  while  they  had  come  to  a  perfect  understanding  af 
to  the  proper  manner  and  the  right  moment  to  use  them* 


A  Comedy  Duel.  255 

With  the  eggs  concealed  in  their  hands,  they  were  wait 
ing  for  Barney  to  give  the  word. 

"Come,  come,  jintlemin,"  called  the  Irish  lad,  sharply. 
"Take  yer  positions,  fer  Oi'm  goin'  t'  give  th'  worrud." 

"This  is  your  last  chance  to  run  away,  Dutchy,"  fal 
tered  Ephraim,  who  seemed  to  be  losing  confidence. 

"Dis  vos  your  lasd  obbortunity  to  abologize,  Yankee," 
said  Hans,  rather  weakly. 

"Ready  to  foire  at  th'  worrud,"  called  Barney. 

Hans'  teeth  were  plainly  heard  to  rattle  together  like 
dice. 

"One!"  counted  Barney. 

"Uf  he  don'd  run  avay,  I  vas  reaty  to  hear  him  abolo 
gize,"  murmured  the  Dutch  lad. 

"Say!"  Ephraim  hoarsely  whispered  to  Sammy.  "Git 
a  rope  an'  tie  me,  quick !  Hang  me  ef  I  don't  believe  my 
legs  is  goin'  to  run  the  best  I  kin  do." 

"Two!"  counted  Barney. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !  vere  vas  someding  I  can  hide  pe- 
hind?" 

"Great  thutteration !     I'm  a  goner !" 

"Three— fire !" 

Both  of  the  bold  duelists  turned  their  heads  away, 
pointed  the  pistols  at  something,  and  fired. 

Bang !  bang ! 

Frank  and  Sammy  Smiles  let  the  eggs  fly,  and  the  aim 
of  both  was  accurate. 

Sammy's  egg  struck  Hans  behind  the  right  ear,  and 
spattered  all  over  the  side  of  the  Dutch  lad's  head,  while 
Frank's  egg  landed  on  Ephraim's  neck. 

"I  vos  a  deadt  man !"  squawked  the  Dutch  lad,  as  he 
went  over  in  a  heap. 

"I'm  shot,  by  gum !"  squealed  the  Yankee,  as  his  knees 


256  A  Comedy  Duel. 

collapsed  and  he  measured  his  long  length  upon  the 
ground. 

"Smoke !"  cried  Barney  Mulloy,  grasping  his  nose  with 
both  hands.  "It  smells  loike  ye'd  both  been  corpuses  fer 
a  long  toime !" 

"By  Jove!"  gasped  Frank.  "That  odor  is  strong 
enough  to  lift  a  safe!" 

The  other  witnesses  of  the  duel  roared  with  laughter, 
but  Hans  was  bellowing  and  Ephraim  was  groaning  so 
loudly  that  neither  of  them  heard  the  sounds  of  mirth. 

"I  can  feel  mein  prains  runnin'  all  ofer  der  side  uf  mein 
headt !"  howled  Hans. 

"Send  for  a  doctor !"  shrieked  Ephraim.  "I'm  covered 
with  blood!  My  jubilee  vein  is  cut  clean  in  two,  an' 
ther  blood  is  runnin'  down  my  neck!" 

"Ivosdyin'!" 

"I'll  be  dead  in  a  minute !" 

Sammy  Smiles  held  fast  to  his  nose,  and  made  haste 
to  bend  over  his  principal,  whom  he  pretended  to  ex 
amine. 

"Bring  bandages!"  he  shouted.  "Help  me  to  stop 
him  from  bleeding  to  death." 

"It's  nary  a  bit  of  use,"  groaned  the  Vermonter.  "No 
feller  ever  lived  with  his  jubilee  vein  cut  in  two!" 

"Merciful  goodness !"  cried  Frank,  in  pretended  horror, 
as  he  hovered  over  Hans,  also  taking  care  to  cling  to  his 
nose.  "The  whole  top  of  his  head  is  shot  away !" 

The  Dutch  boy  gave  a  wild,  despairing  wail. 

"Und  you  said  dot  feller  vos  goin'  to  run  avay !  Dun- 
der  und  blitsens !  I  vos  a  fool  dot  I  don'd  run  avay 
meinseluf  pefore  mein  prains  he  shot  oudt !" 

"Never  mind^"  said  Frank.  "You  will  die  like  a 
hero,  and  we'll  bury  you  with  all  the  honors  of  war." 

"Yah !"  snorted  Hans.     "Dot  vos  nice — I  don'd  pelieve  I 


A  Comedy  Duel.  257 

I  don'd  care  apout  dot  honors  uf  var!  Oh,  Shimminy 
Gristmas!  vot  a  fool  a  blamed  fool  vos!" 

"I  am  surprised  at  you/'  said  Frank,  sternly.  "You 
should  be  proud  to  perish  in  such  a  heroic  manner." 

"Oh,  yaw !  I  peen  tickled  to  death — mit  a  pullet.  Id 
vos  fun !" 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  not  a  success  as  a  hero." 

"Veil,  I  dudder  peen  a  success  as  a  coward  und  kept 
avay  from  dot  pullet." 

In  the  meantime  Ephraim  had  recovered  from  the 
shock  sufficiently  to  detect  the  powerful  odor  of  the  stale 
egg  that  had  struck  him. 

"Great  gum!"  he  gurgled.  "What  was  that  Dutch 
man's  pistol  loaded  with?  Something  must  have  crawled 
inter  ther  pesky  thing  an'  died  there !" 

"Do  you  really  smell  anything?"  chuckled  Sammy 
Smiles. 

"Do  I  ?"  howled  the  Yankee  boy,  sitting  up  and  gasp 
ing  for  breath.  "I  ruther  think  I  do,  by  gum !" 

"You  must  be  mistaken.  Being  seriously  wounded, 
you  imagine  it.  It  is  the  result  of  your  injury." 

"Is  that  so?  Wai,"  he  wildly  panted,  "if  that's  ther 
case,  I  hope  I'll  die  soon  an'  git  aout  of  my  misery!" 

The  spectators  were  convulsed  with  merriment,  and 
Ephraim  began  to  smell  a  rat — if,  indeed,  it  were  pos 
sible  to  smell  anything  but  the  ancient  eggs. 

"Say !"  he  snorted,  "you  fellers  don't  act  like  there  was 
anybody  dyin'  around  here.  An'  by  chaowder !  this  smell 
is  jest  ther  same  ez  I  struck  when  I  crawled  under  dad's 
old  barn  to  find  where  the  speckled  hen  was  layin',  anr 
crunched  up  some  aigs  that  hed  bin  there  two  or  three 
months.  Ef  that  Dutchman  loaded  his  pistol  with  a  ripe 
aig  an'  shot  me  in  the  neck,  I'll  paound  the  stuffin'  aout 
of  him,  by  gum !" 


258  A  Comedy  Duel. 

"Vot  vos  dot?"  roared  Hans,  also  sitting  up,  and  glar 
ing  at  the  Vermonter.  "You  don'd  peen  pig  enough  to 
bound  der  sduffin  oudt  uf  nottings !" 

"Wai,  dern  my  skin  ef  I  don't  show  you !  Ef  I'm  mor 
tally  shot,  it'll  be  some  satisfaction  to  die  thumpin'  you, 
by  gum !" 

"Keeb  avay  off !"  squawked  Hans,  as  Ephraim  began  to 
crawl  toward  him.  "Keeb  avay  off,  ur  I  vos  goin'  to 
bulverize  you  britty  queek  right  avay  soon !" 

"You  pulverize,  an'  be  hanged !  All  I  want  is  to  git 
holt  of  ye." 

Hans  began  to  scramble  out  of  the  way. 

"Holt  on !  holt  on !"  he  cried.  "Dot  don'd  peen  no  fair 
to  sdrike  a  man  mit  haluf  uf  his  heat  plown  off !" 

"Your  head's  all  right,  only  one  side  of  it  is  plastered 
over  with  some  yaller  stuff.  You  shot  me  in  the  neck, 
and  I'm  all  kivered  with  blood,  but  I  kin  do  ye,  jest  ther 
same !" 

"Dot  vos  der  gweerest  colored  plood  vot  I  nefer  saw ! 
You  don'd  peen  shot  ad  all." 

"Then,  by  gum !  I'm  goin'  ter  lick  ye  anyhaow !"  and 
Ephraim  scrambled  to  his  feet. 

"Veil,  you  don'd  done  dot  till  you  catch  me,  py  Shim- 
miny !" 

Hans  also  scrambled  up,  and  immediately  took  tojiis 
heels,  with  the  tall  Yankee  in  hot  pursuit,  leaving  the 
spectators  of  this  ridiculous  duel  to  exhaust  themselves 
with  merriment. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

ANOTHER  KIND  OF  A  FIGHT. 

It  had  already  grown  quite  dark. 

The  fun  for  the  time  being  was  over,  but  there  was 
an  engagement  of  quite  a  different  nature  to  take  place. 

Barely  had  the  Dutch  boy  disappeared,  with  the  Ver- 
monter  at  his  heels,  when  Frank  and  several  others  of  the 
party  slipped  away  into  the  shadows  and  made  for  Black 
Bluff. 

Bascomb  and  a  large  number  of  his  friends  were  wait 
ing  when  Frank  arrived,  and  Merriwell  heard  the  big  fel 
low  sneeringly  observe: 

"He  has  really  come  at  last !  I  didn't  know  but  he  was 
going  to  take  water.  I  was  afraid  I'd  lose  the  satisfac 
tion  of  giving  him  the  licking  he  needs." 

Frank  bit  his  lip,  and  remained  silent. 

Bart  Hodge  was  on  hand,  and  he  was  quickly  at 
Frank's  side. 

"Where  have  you  been  ?"  he  asked.  "I  was  beginning 
to  fear  Bascomb  had  put  up  some  kind  of  a  job  to  keep 
you  away,  so  he  could  claim  you  were  afraid  to  meet 
him." 

"I  have  been  acting  as  second  in  another  affair,"  said 
Frank.  "I  want  you  to  represent  me  in  this.  Will  you?" 

"You  have  no  need  to  ask  that,  for  you  must  know 
that  it  will  give  me  pleasure.  I  want  to  see  you  give  that 
big  brute  the  drubbing  he  merits,  so  he  will  keep  still 


26o  Another  Kind  of  a  Fight. 

for  a  while.  He  has  been  trying  to  injure  you  ever  since 
you  entered  the  academy,  and  he  has  said  here  to-night 
that  he  proposed  doing  me  up  to  square  an  old  score 
after  he  had  finished  you.  I  tried  to  get  him  to  take  me 
first,  for  I  told  him  there  wouldn't  be  anything  left  for 
me  to  fight  when  you  were  through  with  him.  He  said 
he  was  going  to  polish  you  off  easily,  and  he  has  been 
whispering  and  laughing  with  that  sneaking  Reynolds. 
Somehow,  I  feel  as  if  they  have  put  up  some  kind  of  a  job 
to  get  the  best  of  you,  and  that  is  why  they  feel  so  well. 
You  want  to  be  on  your  guard  for  tricks,  old  man." 

"I  will,"  assured  Frank,  as  he  began  to  "peel"  for  the 
fight.  "Go  over  and  make  arrangements  with  Reynolds. 
If  you  can  get  him  to  agree  to  make  it  a  go-as-you-please 
till  the  best  man  whips  you  will  suit  me." 

"All  right;  I'll  stand  for  that." 

Away  went  Hodge  to  consult  with  Reynolds,  and  Frank 
did  not  dream  that  he  had  proposed  just  the  kind  of  a 
fight  that  Bascomb  and  his  second  most  desired. 

The  wind  was  coming  in  across  the  bay,  and  the  sea 
was  moaning  at  the  ragged  base  of  Black  Bluff,  on  the 
heights  of  which  the  fight  was  to  take  place.  There  were 
scudding  clouds  in  the  sky,  but  the  night  did  not  prom 
ise  to  be  very  dark. 

It  did  not  take  Hodge  long  to  complete  arrangements 
with  Reynolds,  and  he  soon  returned  to  inform  Frank 
that  it  was  to  be  one  straight  fight  from  start  to  finish, 
with  no  rests  till  one  or  the  other  whipped. 

Frank  had  not  supposed  there  would  be  near  so  many 
spectators  present,  and  he  well  knew  that  the  most  of 
those  assembled  were  fellows  who  were  secretly  envious 
of  him  because  of  his  popularity,  although  nearly  all  had 
made  protestations  of  friendship  in  the  past. 


Another  Kind  of  a  Fight.  261 

Frank  did  not  care  for  the  friendship  of  such  fellows, 
as  there  was  nothing  in  the  world  he  despised  more  than 
a  hypocrite.  He  could  respect  a  foe  who  was  open  and 
frank;  but  he  had  no  use  for  anybody  who  wore  two 
faces. 

Fred  Davis  had  not  been  told  where  the  fight  was  to 
take  place;  but  he  had  scented  it  in  some  way,  and  he 
came  panting  to  the  spot,  just  as  Merriwell  and  Bas- 
comb  were  about  to  meet.  He  rushed  straight  to  Frank, 
exclaiming : 

"You  must  not  fight  on  my  account!  You  shall  not! 
You  haven't  any  right  to  do  it !  This  must  stop !" 

"Here,  Bart,"  said  Merriwell  to  Hodge,  speaking 
quietly  and  firmly,  "turn  this  boy  over  to  Mulloy,  and 
tell  him  to  keep  Davis  from  making  any  fuss." 

"But  you  must  listen  to  me!"  cried  the  little  plebe,  on 
the  verge  of  tears.  "People  sometimes  get  killed  in 
fights.  If  you  are  badly  hurt,  I'll  never  forgive  myself. 
Can't  I  do  something  to  stop  it?  Why,  I  will  apolo 
gize  to  Bascomb,  and " 

"That  would  simply  place  you  more  in  contempt,  and 
would  not  let  me  out  in  the  least,  boy.  Take  him  away, 
Mulloy,"  Frank  spoke  to  the  Irish  lad,  who  was  now 
at  hand.  "See  that  he  doesn't  get  into  trouble." 

Seeing  it  was  impossible  to  put  an  end  to  the  con 
test,  Fred  gave  up  in  despair. 

Merriwell  and  Bascomb  now  faced  each  other.  There 
was  no  demand  that  they  should  shake  hands,  and  neither 
offered  to  do  so.  The  boys  formed  a  circle  around 
them,  and,  at  the  word,  they  leaped  at  each  other  and 
the  fray  had  begun. 

Bascomb  made  an  effort  to  clinch  immediately ,,.  but 
Frank  landed  two  blows  that  sent  him  staggering.  This 


262  Another  Kind  of  a  Fight. 

was  an  advantage  which  Merriwell  followed  up,  and 
Bascomb  was  forced  to  keep  falling  back  for  some  mo 
ments,  shifting  the  battle-ground  considerably  from  the 
point  where  the  struggle  began. 

Spat !  spat !  spat !  sounded  the  blows ;  but  it  was  not 
always  an  easy  thing  to  tell  who  was  getting  the  worst 
of  it. 

To  and  fro,  forward  and  back,  moved  the  fighting  lads, 
their  movements  being  breathlessly  followed  by  the  spec 
tators.  Sometimes  it  would  seem  that  one  of  the  lads 
had  the  advantage,  and  then  it  would  appear  to  be  the 
other. 

With  his  hands  clasped  together  and  his  heart  beating 
wildly,  Fred  Davis  strained  his  eyes  to  see  it  all.  To 
him  every  moment  seemed  an  hour  of  acute  agony  and 
suspense. 

Bart  Hodge  and  Barney  Mulloy  were  both  intensely 
interested  and  excited,  but  neither  of  them  entertained  a 
doubt  but  what,  barring  accident,  Frank  would  come  forth 
the  victor. 

The  breathing  of  the  fighting  boys  became  short  and 
loud,  and  Bascomb  occasionally  muttered  fierce  words. 
Merriwell  fought  silently  and  fiercely. 

At  length  the  tigerish  determination  of  Bascomb's  foe 
began  to  drive  the  big  fellow  back  again.  Several  times 
he  clinched  Frank,  but  his  hold  was  quickly  broken  on 
each  occasion.  Three  times  both  went  down;  but  the 
strength  of  neither  seemed  sufficient  to  get  the  advantage 
and  hold  the  other. 

At  length,  as  they  were  apparently  on  the  point  of 
grappling  again,  Bascomb  was  seen  to  make  a  quick 
move  of  one  hand,  and  Frank  immediately  cried : 


Another  Kind  of  a  Fight.  263 

"My  eyes !     Oh,  I  am  blinded !     They  are  burning !" 

Instantly  there  was  the  greatest  excitement. 

"Foul  play,  by  the  eternal  skies !"  shouted  Bart  Hodge, 
leaping  forward.  Instantly  someone  gave  him  a  blow 
that  sent  him  reeling. 

"Howld  on,  ye  imps !"  roared  Barney.  "Ye  can't  play 
your  dirty  thricks  here!" 

"Keep  them  away !"  grated  Bascomb.  "Keep  them  away, 
and  I'll  fix  this  fellow  now !" 

Frank  heard  the  bully's  voice,  but  he  could  not  see 
Bascomb.  With  a  cry  of  unutterable  fury,  Merriwell 
leaped  for  his  foe,  caught  him,  grappled  with  him. 

Then  was  seen  such  a  mad  struggle  as  not  one  of  the 
boys  present  had  ever  before  witnessed.  Merriwell 
seemed  like  a  tiger  that  had  been  stung  to  ungovernable 
rage,  and  Bascomb  exerted  every  bit  of  skill  and  strength 
he  possessed. 

Round  and  round  they  whirled,  away  they  reeled,  and 
then  a  cry  of  surprise  and  horror  suddenly  broke  from 
the  crowd. 

The  beginning  of  the  fight  had  been  at  a  long  distance 
from  the  brink  of  the  bluff,  but,  all  at  once,  it  was  dis 
covered  that,  in  the  darkness,  they  had  shifted  about 
till  they  were  close  to  the  verge.  And,  unconsciously, 
they  were  staggering  swiftly  to  the  edge. 

"Stop  them!"  shouted  Hodge.  "Quick,  or  they  will 
go  over!" 

Fred  Davis  leaped  forward,  clutched  at  the  struggling 
lads,  but  could  not  hold  them.  In  a  twinkling  they 
tore  away,  and  reeled  on. 

Others  would  have  interfered,  but  it  was  too  late.  Both 
Hodge  and  Mulloy  did  their  best,  but  Bascomb  and  Mer 
riwell  escaped  their  outstretched  hands. 

Then  another  cry  of  horror  went  up. 


264  Another  Kind  of  a  Fight. 

The  fighting  lads  were  tottering  on  the  brink.  They 
realized  their  peril  at  last;  but,  before  they  could  make 
a  move  to  save  themselves,  they  went  over. 

"Merciful  Heaven !"  gasped  Hodge.  "That  is  the  end 
of  them  both!" 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

RESULT   OF  THE   CONTEST. 

For  a  moment  the  horror-stricken  witnesses  stood  and 
stared  through  the  darkness  at  the  place  where  the  foes 
had  disappeared  over  the  brink  of  the  bluff,  and  no  one 
seemed  capable  of  making  a  move  or  saying  a  thing  im 
mediately  after  those  blood-chilling  words  came  from 
the  lips  of  Bartley  Hodge. 

Fred  Davis  was  the  first  to  recover.  Down  upon  the 
ground  he  flung  himself,  peering  over  the  verge  of  the 
bluff,  and  calling: 

"Frank — Frank  Merriwell !" 

Immediately  there  was  a  faint,  muffled  answer  from 
near  at  hand. 

"Thank  Heaven!"  Fred  almost  wept.  "He  has  not 
fallen  into  the  sea!  He  is  near  at  hand!  I  can  hear 
him!  Frank,  where  are  you?" 

"Here — clinging  to  this  vine,"  was  the  faint  reply. 
"The  thing  is  giving — it  will  tear  away!  Quick — grasp 
my  wrists!" 

Fred  saw  that  the  dark  form  was  dangling  immediately 
below,  and,  without  delay,  he  reached  down  and  found 
a  pair  of  hands  which  were  clinging  madly  to  a  stout 
vine. 

The  vine  was  really  giving  way,  and  Davis  instantly 
grasped  both  wrists  of  the  imperiled  lad. 

"I've  got  him,  boys !"  he  shouted,  joyously.  "Pull  us 
up — pull  us  up!  I  can  hold  fast  if  youjmll  us  up  at 


266  Result  of  the  Contest. 

once!  He  has  hold  of  one  of  my  hands  now;  he  will 
not  let  go.  Pull  us  up,  and  he  will  be  saved !" 

"Lay  hold  here!"  shouted  Hodge,  grasping  Davis  by 
the  shoulder.  "Down  on  your  faces,  two  of  you,  and 
clutch  Merriwell  the  moment  he  is  lifted  far  enough 
for  you  to  grasp  him.  Work  lively,  now!  Are  you 
ready?" 

"All  ready,"  came  the  chorus. 

"Then  hoist  away,  lads,  and  up  he  comes !" 

So,  with  a  strong  pull,  the  imperiled  youth  was 
dragged  up  over  the  brink  to  safety,  falling  prostrate  and 
panting  at  the  feet  of  his  rescuers. 

"Poor  Bascomb !"  exclaimed  one  of  the  boys.  "I  am 
afraid  he  is  done  for!" 

"Not  much !"  panted  the  boy  they  had  just  saved.  "But 
that  was  a  mighty  close  call." 

"What's  this?"  shrieked  Fred  Davis,  dropping  to  his 
knees  and  staring  into  the  face  of  the  fellow  he  had 
helped  to  rescue.  "This  isn't  Merriwell!  It's  Bas 
comb  !" 

Exclamations  of  astonishment  came  from  every  lip, 
for  all  had  thought  they  were  rescuing  Frank. 

"Great  Jupiter !"  gasped  Bart  Hodge.  "It  must  be  that 
Merriwell  went  clean  down  the  face  of  the  bluff!" 

"An'  thot  manes  he  is  a  dead  b'y!"  declared  Barney 
Mulloy.  Fred  Davis  quickly  leaped  to  the  brink,  and 
wildly  shouted : 

"Frank  Merriwell!  Frank  Merriwell!  Where  are 
you  ?  Frank !  Frank !" 

No  answer  save  the  moaning  of  the  wind  and  the  gur 
gle  of  the  sea  which  came  up  from  the  base  of  the  bluff, 
like  the  last  strangling  sound  from  the  throat  of  a 
drowning  person. 

"He  is  gone !" 


Result  of  the  Contest  267 

A  feeling  of  unutterable  horror  came  over  the  little 
party  on  the  bluff,  for  they  all  seemed  to  realize  what  a 
terrible  thing  had  happened. 

Fred  Davis  fell  to  sobbing  and  moaning.  Again  and 
again  he  sent  his  voice  down  the  face  of  the  bluff,  shout 
ing  into  the  darkness  that  hovered  over  the  surging  sea: 

"Frank  Merriwell!  Oh,  Frank,  where  are  you? 
Frank!  Frank!" 

A  night-bird  swept  past,  and  answered  his  shouts  with 
an  eerie  cry;  but  the  voice  of  Frank  Merriwell  did  not 
come  up  out  of  the  darkness  below. 

"It's  no  use!"  came  hoarsely  and  hopelessly  from  the 
lips  of  Bart  Hodge.  "Merriwell  is  a  goner!  It  was 
most  remarkable  that  Bascomb  caught  hold  of  that  vine 
and  so  escaped." 

Fred  Davis  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  rushed  at  Bas 
comb,  who  was  cowering  and  shivering  in  the  midst  of 
the  boys. 

"You  killed  him !"  screamed  the  little  plebe.  "You're 
responsible  for  his  death!  It  was  murder!" 

"Thot's  roight!"  came  from  Barney  Mulloy. 

Bascomb  cowered  and  retreated  before  Davis.  All  his 
bullying  spirit  was  gone,  and  he  shivered  when  the  little 
fellow  declared  it  was  murder. 

"You  shall  be  hanged !"  wildly  cried  Fred,  shaking  his 
clinched  hands  in  Bascomb's  face.  "I  will  testify 
against  you !  You  shall  be  arrested  and  hanged !" 

"Take  him  away,  somebody!"  muttered  Bascomb, 
hoarsely. 

"Touch  me  if  you  dare!"  defied  Davis,  who  seemed 
quite  beside  himself.  "I  have  been  a  coward  long 
enough,  and  I  am  not  afraid  of  you  all  now !  If  I  hadn't 
been  a  coward,  I  should  have  fought  here  to-night,  in 
stead  of  Merriwell,  and  he  would  be  alive  now!  Oh, 


268  Result  of  the  Contest. 

I'll  never  forgive  myself  for  letting  him  fight  in  my 
place !  But  I'll  do  my  best  to  avenge — I'll  swear  he  was 
murdered !" 

"That's  rot,"  said  Rupert  Reynolds,  rather  weakly. 
"It  was  a  clean  case  of  accident." 

"I  am  not  sure  about  that,"  came  significantly  from 
the  lips  of  Bart  Hodge.  "We  all  heard  Merriwell  cry 
out  that  he  had  been  blinded.  That  meant  some 
thing.  There  was  foul  play  here,  and  the  parties  who 
were  in  the  dirty  game  must  suffer  for  it." 

"Faith,  an'  thot's  roight,  Bart,  me  b'y!"  exclaimed 
Barney  Mulloy.  "It's  as  clane  a  lad  as  iver  brathed  thot 
wint  over  Black  Bluff  to  his  death  th'  noight,  an'  some 
body  will  pay  dear  fer  this  pace  av  worruk." 

Bascomb  still  remained  silent,  seeming  incapable  of 
offering  any  defense. 

"It  is  useless  to  waste  any  more  time  here,"  said  Hodge, 
sharply.  "This  awful  business  must  be  reported  in 
camp.  We  must  get  boats  from  the  boathouse,  and 
search  for  Merriwell's  body." 

He  started  away,  and  the  boys  began  to  follow  him. 
Bascomb  stood  quite  still,  and  saw  his  late  supporters, 
with  the  exception  of  Reynolds,  draw  away  and  leave  him, 
as  if  he  were  some  creature  to  be  avoided. 

"Oh,  that's  the  way!"  he  grated,  bitterly.  "They're 
afraid  they  will  be  mixed  in  it  some  way,  and  so  they 
sneak !  I  am  left  to  face  the  music  alone !" 

"Brace  up,  old  man,"  urged  Reynolds.  "You  may  not 
be  in  such  a  very  bad  box.  I  don't  see  how  they  can 
do  anything  but  expel  you  from  the  academy,  and  it  is 
likely  I  will  have  to  take  the  same  medicine,  as  I  was  your 
second." 

"Oh,  you're  trying  to  show  a  bright  side;  but  I  tell 


Result  of  the  Contest.  269 

you,  Reynolds,  there   is   something  worse  than  expul 
sion  to  follow  this !" 

"What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"You  heard  that  plebe  Davis  declare  he  would  charge 
me  with  murder?" 

"Sure;  but  he's  deranged  for  the  moment." 

"He  will  make  the  charge,  just  the  same;  and  I'll  have 
to  face  it." 

"But  it  cannot  be  proved  against  you." 

"I  am  not  so  sure.  If  I  hadn't  flung  red  pepper  in 
Merriwell's  eyes  I'd  have  a  better  show.  Now  it  will 
look  as  if  I  did  that  to  blind  him,  so  I  might  force  him 
over  the  bluff." 

"I  don't  believe  anybody  can  think  you  as  bad  as 
that.  You  certainly  had  no  desire  to  do  anything  more 
than  whip  Merriwell  by  some  means,  fair  or  foul." 

"It  is  easy  enough  to  say  that,  but  I'm  afraid  it  will 
not  be  easy  to  make  people  believe  it.  I  swear,  Reynolds, 
it's  a  terrible  thing  to  have  anything  like  this  hanging 
over  a  fellow !  Why,  it  has  taken  all  the  nerve  out  of 
me!  I'd  give  my  right  hand  to  see  Frank  Merriwell 
alive  and  well  at  this  moment!" 

"Don't  go  to  pieces  that  way,  Bascomb!"  entreated 
Rupert.  "You've  got  to  keep  a  stiff  backbone.  Come, 
let's  hurry  after  the  others." 

Reynolds  got  hold  of  Bascomb's  arm,  and  fairly 
dragged  him  after  the  other  lads,  who  were  making  their 
way  toward  camp. 

Each  step  that  brought  the  big  fellow  nearer  camp 
made  him  more  desperate.  Finally,  he  declared : 

"I'm  going  to  know  what  Hodge  and  Mulloy  mean 
to  do." 

Then  he  hastened  forward  till  he  came  upon  Bart  and 
Barney,  who  were  accompanied  by  Fred  Davis. 


270  Result  of  the  Contest. 

"Look  here,  fellows,"  said  Bascomb,  "I've  got  some 
questions  to  ask  you." 

"Well,  ask  them,"  directed  Hodge,  shortly,  as  the  boys 
halted  and  clustered  again. 

"I  want  to  know  if  you  actually  think  I  am  wicked 
enough  to  wish  to  kill  a  fellow  cadet  and  classmate?" 

"As  fer  mesilif,  Oi  dunno,"  admitted  Barney.  "Yure 
a  big  scoundrel,  but  Oi  don't  loike  ter  think  any  felly's 
villain  enough  to  do  murther." 

"But  it  looks  mighty  black  for  you,  Bascomb,"  said 
Bart.  "We  all  heard  'Merriwell  cry  out  that  he  was 
blinded,  and  then  you  seemed  to  drag  him  straight  for 
the  brink  of  the  bluff." 

"It  was  an  accident!"  declared  Bascomb,  hoarsely.  "I 
did  not  dream  we  were  anywhere  near  the  edge  of  the 
bluff." 

"It  was  not  accident !"  cried  Fred  Davis.  "It  was  mur 
der,  and  I  will  swear  to  it!" 

"You  hear  that,"  came  huskily  from  the  lips  of  the 
accused.  "If  you  fellows  stand  by  him,  I  am  done  for." 

"We'll  have  to  be  given  time  to  think  it  over." 

"No,  that  is  wrong,  for  you'll  be  forced  to  make  some 
explanation  as  soon  as  you  get  into  camp." 

"We'll  simply  tell  the  truth." 

"That  will  ruin  me !" 

"Which  cannot  be  helped.  The  truth  is  the  only  thing 
that  will  stand  in  a  case  like  this." 

"All  right.     There's  no  show  for  me." 

Bascomb  turned  about  in  a  blind  way,  and  Reynolds 
caught  him  by  the  arm,  asking: 

"Where  are  you  going?    What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"I  don't  know,"  was  the  hopeless  reply.  "It  doesn't 
make  any  difference  where  I  go  or  what  I  do  now !" 

The  most  of  the  boys   moved  toward  camp   again, 


Result  of  the  Contest  271 

leaving  Reynolds  talking  earnestly  with  Bascomb.  Be 
fore  the  camp  was  reached,  Reynolds  came  running  and 
panting  after  them. 

"Bascomb  has  gone  crazy !"  he  cried.  "He  said  he 
was  going  to  kill  himself,  and  he  broke  away  from  me 
and  ran  into  the  woods !  It  is  terrible !" 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

ALIVE ! 

"I  don't  know  but  suicide  is  his  easiest  way  out  of  this 
scrape,"  said  Hodge. 

"It  is  the  only  way  he  can  escape  hanging !"  came  from 
Fred  Davis,  who  seemed  to  be  aroused  to  a  point  of  re 
lentless  hatred  for  Bascomb. 

"Merciful  goodness!"  came  faintly  from  Reynolds, 
who  seemed  to  be  weakening.  "What  a  dreadful  af 
fair  this  is!  I'd  give  anything  in  my  power  to  give  if 
I  were  well  out  of  it !" 

"An'  ye'd  be  gittin'  out  chape  at  thot,  me  hearty,"  de 
clared  Barney  Mulloy. 

"If  I'd  ever  dreamed  what  would  come  of  it,  horses 
couldn't  have  dragged  me  into  the  affair !"  almost  whim 
pered  Reynolds. 

"An'  now  ye're  in  it,  it  won't  do  yez  niwer  a  bit 
av  good  to  whoine,  me  b'y." 

"All  you  can  do  is  brace  up  and  face  it  out,"  said 
Hodge.  "That's  what  the  rest  of  us  will  have  to  do.  It's 
likely  we'll  all  be  fired  from  the  academy  for  our  shares 
in  the  business." 

"I  wouldn't  mind  that  if  it  would  bring  Merriwell 
back  all  right,"  asserted  Reynolds,  and  there  was  a  sin 
cere  sound  in  his  voice. 

"We'd  all  take  our  medicine  without  a  murmur  if  it 
would  restore  him  to  life.  He  was  the  whitest  boy 
that  ever  breathed!" 


Alive!  273 

"I  think  you're  right,"  admitted  Rupert.  "I  don't 
like  him,  but  I  presume  that  was  my  fault.  Perhaps 
I  was  jealous  because  he  was  so  popular.  He  never 
did  me  a  mean  turn." 

"Och!  an'  he  nivver  did  anybody  thot!"  quickly  put 
in  Barney.  "It  wur  ivver  a  good  turn,  av  it  wur  any 
thing  at  all,  at  all." 

And  so,  talking  of  Frank's  virtues,  the  boys  approached 
the  camp.  It  was  decided  among  them  that  Hodge 
should  report  the  affair  to  Lieutenant  Gordan,  and  they 
should  all  get  into  camp  without  being  challenged,  if 
possible.  For  this  purpose  they  separated,  and  slipped  in 
one  by  one,  by  various  ways. 

Hodge  himself  found  a  little  difficulty  in  getting  past 
the  sentinel,  by  whom  he  did  not  wish  to  be  challenged 
and  taken  in  custody,  as  there  would  be  a  certain  amount 
of  red  tape  business  that  would  delay  him  from  seek 
ing  the  lieutenant  immediately  and  making  his  report. 

He  finally  succeeded  in  getting  into  camp,  and  hurried 
directly  to  his  own  tent.  As  he  entered,  he  was  sur 
prised  to  see  a  lamp  had  been  lighted,  and  somebody 
was  wringing  out  a  towel  in  the  water-bucket,  at  the 
same  time  having  his  head  and  face  well  swathed  with 
another  towel,  that  was  dripping  wet. 

"Well,  who  in  thunder  are  you  ?  and  what  are  you  up  to 
here?"  demanded  Bart,  indignantly. 

The  fellow  with  the  towel  about  his  head  pulled  enough 
of  it  away  from  his  mouth  to  reply: 

"Hello,  Bart!  I  am  soaking  the  red  pepper  out  of 
my  eyes,  and  incidentally  bathing  my  bruises  at  the  same 
time.  I  couldn't  see  to  guard  for  all  of  Bascomb's 
blows." 

Hodge  reeled  backward,   and  came   near  collapsing. 


274  Alive! 

He  caught  hold  of  the  tent  pole  at  the  front,  and  clung 
to  it  for  support. 

"Frank!"  he  cried,  faintly. 

"That's  my  name/'  affirmed  the  other,  as  he  unwound 
the  towel  from  about  his  head,  and  looked  at  Bart  with 
a  pair  of  very  red  eyes.  "You  look  as  if  you  saw  a 
ghost." 

"Well,  I  couldn't  be  more  surprised  if  I  saw  a  whole 
regiment  of  ghosts.  Is  it  really  you — alive  ?" 

"To  be  sure." 

"But— but— didn't  you  go  over  Black  Bluff?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  how  do  you  happen  to  be  here?  It  can't  be 
you  fell  all  the  way  down  into  the  water,  and  then  swam 
out?" 

"No." 

"Then  what  did  happen?  For  mercy  sake,  tell  me,  and 
relieve  me  of  this  suspense." 

"Why,  I  didn't  fall  far — not  more  than  ten  feet.  I 
struck  on  a  shelf,  and  lay  there  stunned." 

"And  Bascomb  clung  to  some  vines  till  we  pulled  him 
back  to  the  top  of  the  bluff." 

"Those  vines  fell  all  around  the  shelf  I  was  on,  and 
I  was  half-covered  with  them  when  I  recovered  enough 
to  thoroughly  realize  my  position.  It  is  likely  that,  while 
he  was  clinging  to  them,  Bascomb  partly  covered  me 
with  them  by  winding  his  legs  about  them,  thus  chang 
ing  their  position  after  I  fell." 

"And  he  covered  you  so  that  the  vines  and  the  dark 
ness  prevented  us  from  seeing  you." 

"I  suppose  so." 

"But  why  didn't  you  answer?  Davis  called  to  you 
more  than  twenty  times." 

"I  was   stunned,   and   I   did  not  hear  him  at   first. 


Alive!  275 

When  I  did  hear,  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  answer,  al 
though  I  tried  to  do  so." 

"And  we  went  away  and  left  you  there." 

"Yes." 

"How  did  you  get  off  the  ledge?" 

"My  strength  came  to  me  swiftly  when  I  realized  my 
position.  As  soon  as  possible,  realizing  I  was  alone,  I 
sought  a  way  to  get  to  the  top  of  the  bluff.  I  was  suc 
cessful,  for  I  found  some  clefts  in  the  rock  for  my  feet, 
and,  aided  by  the  vines,,  I  climbed  up.  Then  I  lost  little 
time  in  getting  into  camp,  for  I  didn't  know  what  sort 
of  a  report  you  fellows  would  bring.  I  did  not  expect 
to  reach  camp  ahead  of  you,  but  it  seems  that  I  did, 
although  I  had  not  been  in  the  tent  two  minutes  when 
you  showed  up." 

Up  to  this  moment  Hodge  had  held  off,  as  if  not  quite 
able  to  believe  it  possible  Frank  had  escaped.  Now,  with 
a  cry  of  joy,  he  sprang  forward  and  embraced  his  com 
rade. 

"This  is  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life,  Frank!"  he 
declared,  with  tears  of  joy  in  his  eyes.  "Why,  I  was 
about  to  report  you  as  dead,  and  start  out  an  expedition 
to  search  for  your  body!  I  couldn't  have  felt  so  bad 
had  you  been  my  own  brother.  Davis  is  distracted.  He 
has  charged  Bascomb  with  murder,  and  swears  he  will 
stick  to  it  in  court.  Mulloy  was  also  inclined  to  look 
on  it  as  a  case  of  murder,  and  Bascomb  became  so  scared 
that  he  ran  away  while  we  were  returning  to  camp.  Rey 
nolds  said  Bascomb  swore  he  was  going  to  commit  sui 
cide." 

Frank  straightened  up  quickly. 

"Look  here,  Hodge,"  he  said,  "you  must  act,  and  you 
must  act  swiftly.  I  do  not  want  to  go  to  Lieutenant 
Gordan  in  this  condition;  but  you  must  go  to  him,  and 


276  Alive! 

tell  him  that  Bascomb  seems  to  be  out  of  his  head  and 
has  run  away,  threatening  to  kill  himself.  The  lieu 
tenant  will  be  sure  to  send  out  a  detachment  to  search 
for  the  poor  fellow.  If  you  see  Mulloy,  tell  him  I  am  all 
right,  and  get  him  to  keep  Davis  still.  The  plebe  mustn't 
blow  the  story  all  over  camp.  Let  everybody  know  I 
am  all  right.  As  soon  as  I  can  soak  this  red  pepper 
out  of  my  eyes,  I'll  be  ready  to  help  in  the  search  for 
Bascomb,  if  I  am  needed.  Go  quickly !" 

"All  right;  I'm  off." 

Hodge  darted  out  of  the  tent,  and  Frank  wrapped 
another  wet  towel  about  his  head  and  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 
BABY'S  HEROISM — CONCLUSION. 

All  night  the  search  for  Bascomb  continued,  the  ca 
dets  carrying  on  the  work  in  relays. 

Hodge  had  convinced  Lieutenant  Gordan  that  Bas 
comb  had  suddenly  become  deranged,  and  had  succeeded 
in  having  the  search  instituted  without  telling  the  real 
cause  of  the  disappearance. 

The  joy  of  the  boys  when  they  knew  Merriwell  was 
safe  in  his  own  tent  had  been  boundless,  but  they  were 
forced  to  keep  it  suppressed,  fearing  that  too  much  of  a 
demonstration  would  arouse  suspicion,  and  create  an  in 
vestigation. 

Davis  wept  for  joy.  At  first  he  could  not  believe  such 
good  news  could  be  true,  and  he  had  rushed  straight  to 
the  tent,  where  Frank  was  already  receiving  congratula 
tions. 

"You  don't  know  what  a  terrible  load  this  lifts  from 
my  shoulders!"  cried  the  little  plebe,  in  ecstasy.  "No 
body  shall  ever  fight  for  me  again!  I  can't  lick  any 
body,  but  I  will  stand  up  and  take  my  thumping  when 
it  is  necessary.  I  am  going  to  write  to  'mother  to 
morrow  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible  for  a  fellow  to 
get  along  here  without  fighting,  and  I  am  going  to  ask 
her  to  release  me  from  my  promise.  I  won't  lie  for  any 
body,  but  I  am  going  to  fight  when  I  have  to !" 

"I  do  not  believe  you  will  be  forced  into  many  fights 
•when  the  boys  understand  you,"  said  Frank. 


278        Baby's  Heroism — Conclusion. 

Frank  reduced  the  inflammation  in  his  eyes  so  he  was 
able  to  take  part  in  the  search,  and  he  declined  to  be  re 
lieved,  continuing  in  his  efforts  through  the  entire  night. 

Near  sunrise,  with  a  company  of  plebes  under  his  com 
mand,  he  was  beating  a  piece  of  woods  along  the  bank 
of  a  river  about  four  miles  from  the  academy.  Davis 
was  one  of  the  company.  The  little  fellow  had  grown 
intensely  anxious  for  the  quick  discovery  of  Bascomb, 
hoping  the  big  bully  had  done  no  harm  to  himself. 

"If  he  should  commit  suicide,  I'd  feel  that  I  must 
be  responsible  for  that/'  said  Fred. 

"You  are  altogether  too  conscientious,"  declared  Frank. 
"There  are  none  of  us  but  hope  to  find  Bascomb  all 
right,  but  no  one  save  himself  will  be  to  blame  if  he 
has  taken  his  life." 

Birds  were  singing  their  morning  songs,  and  there 
was  a  rosy  tinge  spreading  upward  in  the  eastern  sky. 
The  breath  of  the  morning  was  sweet  with  the  perfume 
of  June;  but  the  boys  heeded  none  of  the  beauties  of 
nature  around  them,  for  they  were  fearing  that  at  any 
moment  they  might  come  upon  some  ghastly  thing  there 
in  the  heart  of  the  green  woods. 

All  at  once,  they  did  come  upon  a  haggard,  pale-faced 
lad,  who  was  sitting  on  a  fallen  tree,  and  seemed  to  be 
waiting  for  them  to  approach. 

It  was  Bascomb. 

"I  have  dodged  searching  parties  all  night,  and  I  am 
not  going  to  run  any " 

Thus  far  did  Bascomb  get,  and  then  he  saw  Merriwell. 
He  stopped,  'and  his  jaw  fell,  while  he  shuddered,  show 
ing  the  strongest  symptoms  of  terror.  His  eyes  bulged 
from  their  sockets,  and  the  expression  on  his  face  was 
one  of  unutterable  horror. 


baby's  Heroism— Conclusion.         279 

"Bascomb!"  cried  Frank.  "I  am  glad  I  have  found 
you !" 

iHe  stepped  toward  the  big  fellow,  but  Bascomb 
leaped  to  his  feet,  shrieking : 

"Don't  touch  me !    You  are  dead — dead !     Go  away !" 

And  then,  before  another  word  could  be  said,  before 
anybody  could  do  a  thing  to  prevent  it,  Bascomb  turned 
and  fled  through  the  woods — fled  as  if  pursued  by  fiends, 
shrieking  forth  his  terror. 

"After  him !"  cried  Frank.  "Don't  let  him  get  away ! 
He  is  so  scared  that  he  will  surely  do  himself  injury  if 
he  escapes." 

The  pursuit  began,  and  Merriwell  soon  found  that 
Fred  Davis  was  rather  fleet  of  foot.  In  fact,  Fred  was 
able  to  keep  near  to  Frank's  side. 

It  was  a  wild  chase  through  the  strip  of  woods.  Im 
pelled  by  terror,  Bascomb  ran  as  he  had  never  run  be 
fore.  Under  ordinary  circumstances,  Frank  could  have 
overtaken  him  easily,  but  this  was  far  from  an  ordinary 
case. 

At  length,  however,  Frank  and  Fred  began  to  gain  on 
the  fugitive. 

Casting  wild  glances  over  his  shoulder,  Bascomb  dis 
covered  this,  and  his  terror  knew  no  bounds.  He  had 
been  running  parallel  with  the  river,  but  he  suddenly 
changed  his  course  and  made  straight  for  it. 

"He  is  going  to  try  to  drown  himself!"  cried  Frank. 

Then  an  accident  happened  to  Merriwell.  He  tripped 
in  some  underbrush,  and  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 
When  he  got  upon  his  feet,  he  saw  Bascomb  leap  from 
quite  a  high  bank  into  a  deep  part  of  the  river. 

Fred  Davis  was  not  far  from  Bascomb's  heels,  and  he 
was  stripping  off  his  coat  when  the  big  fellow  plunged 


280        Baby's  Heroism — Conclusion. 

into  the  water.  The  coat  was  flung  aside  in  an  instant, 
and  then  Frank  saw  Fred  boldly  plunge  into  the  water 
after  Bascomb. 

"By  Jove !"  exclaimed  Merriwell ;  "the  little  fellow  has 
courage,  after  all !" 

He  hurried  forward,  and  when  he  reached  the  bank,  he 
saw  a  struggle  taking  place  in  the  river. 

Bascomb  did  not  want  to  be  rescued.  (Made  crazy  by 
the  horrors  he  had  experienced  through  the  night,  and 
by  the  sight  of  Merriwell,  whom  he  believed  a  ghost,  he 
was  determined  to  drown  himself  in  the  river. 

Three  times  Davis  struck  at  Bascomb's  temple  with 
his  clinched  fist,  and  he  finally  landed  with  sufficient  vio 
lence  to  stun  the  big  fellow. 

Then,  with  the  skill  of  a  veteran  life-saver,  the  little 
plebe  swung  the  heavy  yearling  over  his  back,  and  struck 
out  for  the  bank,  swept  down  stream  by  the  current. 

Frank  ran  along  the  bank  till  Davis  came  near  enough 
to  be  pulled  out  with  his  burden,  and  Frank  dragged 
both  the  water-dripping  lads  to  solid  ground. 

"By  gracious !  Davis,  you  have  proved  your  value  this 
morning !"  cried  Frank,  as  he  clung  to  the  panting  little 
plebe.  "Bascomb  will  owe  you  his  life,  and  no  one  can 
call  you  a  coward  from  this  time  on." 

The  other  boys  came  running  to  the  spot,  breathing 
heavily,  and  Frank  soon  explained  exactly  what  had  taken 
place.  They  looked  at  Davis  with  increased  respect,  and 
one  of  them  proposed  three  cheers  for  "Baby,"  which 
were  given  with  a  will. 

The  sound  of  the  cheering  seemed  to  arouse  Bascomb. 
He  opened  his  eyes,  and  the  first  person  he  saw  was 
Frank.  With  a  moan  and  a  shudder,  he  covered  his  eyes 
with  his  hands,  gasping: 


Baby's  Heroism— Conclusion.         281 

"Take  him  away !     Don't  let  him  touch  me !" 

"You  have  no  reason  to  be  afraid  of  me,"  assured 
Frank,  quietly.  "I  am  no  ghost;  I  am  alive  and  well." 

"No,  no ;  it  cannot  be !" 

"It  is  the  truth.  I  did  not  go  to  my  death  over  Black 
Bluff,  as  you  thought.  I  did  fall,  but  I  was  saved  by  a 
rocky  shelf." 

Then  Frank  slowly  and  distinctly  explained  every 
thing,  finally  convincing  Bascomb  that  it  was  really  true. 


The  horrors  of  the  night  he  had  spent  alone  in  the 
woods  overcame  Bascomb  so  that  he  was  quite  pros 
trated,  having  to  remain  in  hospital  several  days,  and 
barely  escaping  a  fever. 

But  he  was  very  happy  to  know  that  Frank  still  lived, 
and  this  happiness  led  to  his  quick  recovery. 

As  for  Frank,  although  Bascomb  had  played  a  most 
contemptible  trick  on  him  in  flinging  the  red  pepper  in 
his  eyes,  he  knew  the  bully  had  been  punished  quite 
enough,  and  he  decided  to  let  the  matter  drop.  As  it 
was,  there  were  many  other  matters  to  claim  his  atten 
tion,  some  of  which  will  be  related  in  the  next  volume 
of  this  series,  entitled:  "Frank  Merriwell's  Foes." 

The  report  of  Davis'  exploit  in  rescuing  Bascomb  be 
came  generally  known,  and,  instead  of  being  called  a 
coward,  Fred  was  regarded  as  something  of  a  hero.  The 
boys  thought  him  peculiar,  but  there  were  not  a  few 
who  came  to  uphold  him  in  refusing  to  fight  when  he 
had  given  his  mother  his  word  that  he  would  do  noth 
ing  of  the  kind. 

'From  -the  time  that  he  dragged  Bascomb  out  of  the 
river  he  had  very  little  trouble  in  the  school,  and  there 


282        Baby's  Heroism — Conclusion. 

were  ever  dozens  of  champions  ready  to  fight  his  battles 
when  he  did  find  it  necessary  to  fight. 

But  Frank  had  been  first  to  defend  the  little  fellow,  and 
there  never  came  a  time  when  Fred  did  not  think  Frank 
the  noblest  and  bravest  lad  in  all  the  world. 


"BEST  OF  ALL  BOYS'  BOOKS " 
THE  FAMOUS 

Frank  Merriwell  Stories 

By  BURT  L.  STANDISH 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has 
met  with  anything  like  the  cordial  reception  and  popu 
larity  accorded  to  the  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is.  Frank 
Merriwell,  as  portrayed  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly,  whole- 
souled,  honest,  courageous  American  lad,  who  appeals 
to  the  hearts  of  the  boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and 
his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea  that  it  is  not  necessary 
for  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero.  Frank 
Merriwell's  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious 
lad  to  follow. 

Twenty-four  volumes  ready 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

,  Frank  Merriwell's  Chums  Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Return  to  Yale 

Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West  Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell  Down  South  Frank  MerriwelPs  Loyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Reward 

Frank  Merriwell's  Races  Frank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Frank  Merriwell's  Victories 

Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Frank  Merriwell's  Power 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Frank  Merriwell's  Set-Back 

Frank  Merriwell's  Courage  Frank  Merriwell's  False  Friend 

Frank  Merriwell's  Daring  Frank  Merriwell's  Brother 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  SO  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(i) 


THE  MOTOR  POWER  SERIES 

Donald  Grayson's  Famous 
Motor  Stories  for  Boys  & 

Mr.  Grayson  is  an  accomplished  writer  of  up-to-the- 
minute  juvenile  stories  which  are  eagerly  read  by 
modern  American  lads. 

In  his  new  series,  his  characters  have  exciting  adven- 
tures  with  every  kind  of  motor-driven  machines — motor 
cycles,  automobiles,  aeroplanes  and  submarines. 

You  may  readily  see  what  a  vast  field  for  adventures 
Mr.  Grayson  has  chosen. 

Now  Ready 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  CYCLE 

BOB  STEELE  ON  HIGH  GEAR 

BOB  STEELE  FROM  AUTO  TO  AIRSHIP 

BOB  STEELE  AFLOAT  IN  THE  CLOUDS 

BOB  STEELE'S  SUBMARINE  CRUISE 

BOB  STEELE  IN  STRANGE  WATERS 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  BOAT 

BOB  STEELE'S  WINNING  RACE 

BOB  STEELE'S  NEW  AEROPLANE 

BOB  STEELE'S  LAST  FLIGHT 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(2) 


BOYS  OF  LIBERTY  LIBRARY 

NEW  SERIES  of  splendid  tales  of  the  wonderful  and 
stirring  adventures  of  boys  who  fought  in  The  Revolu- 
tionary  War,  The  French  and  Indian  Wars,  and  Naval 
Battles  of  1812. 

The  stories  are  written  in  an  intensely  interesting  style,  and  no 
boy  can  read  them  without  being  aroused  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
patriotic  enthusiasm. 

We  give  herewith  a  list  of  titles  now  ready.  Read  the  first  and 
you  will  want  to  read  all  the  others.  I2mo.  Cloth,  handsomely 
bound. 

PAUL  REVERE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  FIRST  SHOT  FOR  LIBERTY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FOOLING  THE  ENEMY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

INTO  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  HERO  OF  TICONDEROGA.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

ON  TO  QUEBEC.     By  John  De  Morgan. 

FIGHTING  HAL.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

MARION  AND  HIS  MEN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  AMBASSADOR.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  GUARDSMAN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  LIVELY  BEE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  TORY  PLOT.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

IN  BUFF  AND  BLUE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

WASHINGTON'S  YOUNG  SPY.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

UNDER  GREENE'S  BANNER.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

FOR  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MINUTE  MEN.    By  Harrie  Irving  Hancock. 

THE  QUAKER  SPY.     By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

FIGHTING  FOR  FREEDOM.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

BY  ORDER  OF  THE  COLONEL.    By  Lieut.  Louasberry. 

A  CALL  TO  DUTY.     By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

IN  GLORY'S  VAN.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

THE  TRADER'S  CAPTIVE.     By  Lieut.  Louniberry. 

THE  YOUNG  PATRIOT.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

"  OLD  PUT  "  THE  PATRIOT.    By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  FIVE.     By  Commander  Post. 

THE  KING'S  MESSENGER.    By  Capt.  Frank  Ralph. 

DASHING  PAUL  JONES.     By  Frank  Sheridan. 

FROM  MIDSHIPMAN  TO  COMMODORE.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  ESSEX.     By  Frank  Sheridan. 

LAND  HERO  OF  1812.    By  C.  C.  Hotchkiss. 

FOLLOWING  MAD  ANTHONY.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

THE  YOUNG  CAPTAINS.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAMPAIGNING  WITH  BRADDOCK.    By  William  Murray  Graydon. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(3) 


THE  ROB  RANGER  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  LIONEL  LOUNSBERRY 

A  capital  series  showing  what  can  be  accomplished  by  a  boy  of  ability  and  courage. 
Rob  it  a  hero  whose  example  of  courage,  honesty  and  manliness  can  be  followed  with 
profit.  Rob's  horse,  Silent  Sam,  and  his  dog  Trumps,  play  an  important  part  in  the 
series,  and  cannot  fail  to  win  admiration  and  affection.  No  better  stories  for  bright 
healthy  boys  could  well  be  imagined. 

ROB   RANGER'S   MINE,  or  THE  BOY  'WHO   GOT  THERE.    By  Lieut. 

Lionel  Lounsberry. 
ROB  RANGER   THE  YOUNG   RANCHMAN,  or  GOING  IT  ALONE   AT 

LOST  RIVER.    By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 
ROB  RANGER'S  COWBOY  DAYS,  or  THE  YOUNG  HUNTER  OF  THE 

BIG  HORN.    By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

THE  CIRCUS  SERIES 

STANLEY  NORRIS  VICTOR  ST.  CLAIR 

Where  is  there  a  boy  who  does  not  love  a  circus  and  who  does  not  also  love  to  take 
a  peep  "  behind  the  scenes  "  of  the  great  white  canvas  ?  There  are  adventures  galore, 
enough  to  satisfy  any  healthy  youngster. 

PHIL   THE    SHOWMAN,    or    LIFE    IN    THE    SAWDUST    RING.     By 

Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  RIVALS,  or  UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG   SHOWMAN'S    PLUCK,   or   AN   UNKNOWN    RIDER   IN   THE 

RING.    By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  TRIUMPH,  or  A  GRAND  TOUR  ON  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
ZIG-ZAG,  THE   BOY  CONJURER,  or  LIFE  ON  AND  OFF  THE  STAGE. 

By  Victor  St.  Clair. 
ZIP,  THE  ACROBAT,  or  THE  OLD  SHOWMAN'S  SECRET.    By  Victor 

St.  Clair.  _„    . 

Price,  oO  eents  per  volume 

THE  MATTHEW  WHITE  SERIES 

These  books  are  full  of  good,  clean  adventure,  thrilling  enough  to  please  the  full- 
blooded  wide-awake  boy,  yet  containing  nothing  to  which  there  can  be  any  objection 
from  those  who  are  careful  as  to  the  kind  of  books  they  put  into  the  hands  of  the  young. 

ADVENTURES  OF  A  YOUNG  ATHLETE.— A  story  of  how  a  boy  saved  his 

father's  name  and  fortune. 

ERIC  DANE. — Interesting  experiences  of  a  boy  of  means. 
GUY  HAMMERSLEY.— How  an  energetic  boy  cleared  his  name. 
MY  MYSTERIOUS   FORTUNE.— An  extremely  interesting  story  of  a  $200,000 

check. 
THE  TOUR  OF  A  PRIVATE  CAR.— Interesting  experiences  of  a  young  private 

secretary. 
THE  YOUNG  EDITOR. — Experiences  of  a  bright  boy  editing  a  weekly  paper. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(4) 


The  Famous  Adventure  Series 

An  ideal  series  of  books  for  boys  of  all  ages.  The  stories 
are  of  the  bright  and  sparkling  kind,  full  of  adventures  on 
land  and  sea  and  not  over-burdened  with  lengthy  descriptions ; 
in  fact,  just  the  sort  that  must  appeal  to  every  healthy  boy 
who  is  fond  of  thrilling  exploits  and  deeds  of  heroism. 

The  names  of  the  authors  give  sufficient  guarantee  to  their 
merits.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  Henry  Harrison 
Lewis,  who  is  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis, 
and  has  written  a  great  many  books  for  boys. 

A  VOYAGE  TO  THE  GOLD  COAST.    By  Frank 
H.  Converse. 

An  adventurous  trip  of  New  England  boys  to  Africa. 

CAMP  IN  THE  SNOW.    By  Wm.  Murray  Graydon. 

Boys'  winter  camp  life  in  northern  New  England. 

CENTREBOARD  JIM.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

The  secret  of  Sargasso  Sea. 

FROM  LAKE  TO  WILDERNESS.    By  Wm.  Murray 
Graydon. 

Adventures  around  the  northern  lakes. 

HOW  HE  WON.    By  Brooks  McCormick. 

Triumphs  of  a  plucky  boy  afloat  and  ashore. 

IN   SEARCH    OF   AN   UNKNOWN   RACE.     By 
Frank  H.  Converse. 

A  thrilling  story  of  exploration  in  Brazil. 

KING  OF  THE  ISLAND.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

Strange  adventures  on  a  South  Sea  Island. 

TOM  HAVEN  WITH  THE  WHITE  SQUADRON. 
By  Lieut.  James  K.  Orton. 

The  adventures  of  a  young  inventor  of  •  submarine  boat. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(5) 


THE  ANNAPOLIS  SERIES 

By  ENSIGN  CLARKE  FITCH,  U.  S.  N. 

A  graduate  of  the  U.  S.  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and 
thoroughly  familiar  with  all  naval  matters  Mr.  Fitch  has 
devoted  himself  to  literature,  and  has  written  a  series  of 
books  for  boys  that  every  young  American  should  read.  His 
stories  are  full  of  interesting  information  about  the  navy, 
training  ships,  etc. 

BOUND  FOR  ANNAPOLIS,  or  The  Trials  of  a  Sailor  Boy. 
CLIP,  THE  NAVAL  CADET,  or  Exciting  Days  at  Annapolis. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TRAINING  SHIP,  or  Clif  Faraday's 
Pluck. 

FROM  PORT  TO  PORT,  or  Clif  Faraday  in  Many  Waters. 
A  STRANGE  CRUISE,  or  Clif  Faraday's  Yacht  Chase. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

THE  WEST  POINT  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  FREDERICK  GARRISON,  U.  S.  A. 

Every  American  boy  takes  a  keen  interest  in  the  affairs  of 
West  Point.  No  more  capable  writer  on  this  popular  subject 
could  be  found  than  Lieut.  Garrison,  who  vividly  describes 
the  life,  adventures  and  unique  incidents  that  have  occurred 
in  that  great  institution — in  these  famous  West  Point  stories. 

OFF  FOR  WEST  POINT,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Struggle. 
A  CADET'S  HONOR,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Heroism. 
ON  GUARD,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Celebration. 

THE  WEST  POINT  TREASURE,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strange 
Find. 

THE  WEST  POINT  RIVALS,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strategem. 
Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(6) 


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HM  ncnnNAL  LIBRABY  FACILITY 

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000008877    3 


•nia 


